Midsummer Nights
by meanprincess
Summary: AU/no zombies. After taking a life on duty, Rick Grimes seeks solace in a bar on a lonely summer night and is seduced by an alluring beauty he falls for instantly. An intense unexpected flame is sparked. Two connect deeply in the midst of their struggles. Rick can't help but want to play hero, but fate plays a part in all. Perhaps the saying is true; everything happens for a reason
1. Chapter 1

_**To my readers, this was intended as a one shot in my practice collection and it's my first time writing smut. I am so shy and almost didn't post it, but it's the captain of the ship's birthday for stuff and thangs sake, I had to. Feedback is very much appreciated and it all helps. But please don't be too hard on me. *blushes***_

* * *

 **Rick's POV**

 _Baby, this is what you came for..._

Bourbon branded a furious path of liquid flame, past greedy lips and down desperate throat, seemingly sent from hell to kindle a temporary comfort deep in the unsettled belly of off-duty officer Rick Grimes. With a broken sigh, he took yet another unnecessarily large and lengthy sip of iced Evan Williams whiskey, inviting the scorching aftereffects that came along with it, his stomach hot with promise. The drink was a sort of... 'melancholy moments only' staple of his, and it was always readily available when Rick felt low enough to consider himself undeserving of top shelf spirits and expensively aged brews.

The loud bar he had chosen for the night was not his usual, nor was it familiar, and it was a bit nobby for his taste, but with the way he was feeling tonight, it would just have to do. Rick had spotted it on numerous occasions during his evening commute, when he was sleepy and homeward bound. It sat tucked away behind blocks and blocks of brick, in the centre of a district on the bustling outskirts of the big city of Atlanta, Georgia. He did not frequent the area, but he was very curious about it.

The type of women that strutted through those few city blocks were both high class and extremely intimidating. And though Rick was awful at all things courting, he had hoped that one day he might be able to strike up a flirtatious conversation with one of those classy women; one so far out of his league that he could learn something new about the dating scene for future (unlikely) reference. He aspired to acquire the courage needed to fulfill that wish someday. Even if it only went as far as an innocent exchange of words, it might provide a much desired boost of morale. He had always been one to look for a glimmer of optimism in anything he encountered.

And now, on a breezy, golden Friday, the night to finally venture into that big, trendy bar had come, though Rick had never imagined it ever really would. He had outright laughed at himself for even considering such a thing, knowing the reality of his reclusive nature.

'The Big Apple' wasn't the type of place he usually spent his time in, but he was delightfully surprised by his ability to relax easily in its environment, despite his typical jumpy and paranoid temperament- despite the newness of it all. He knew for certain, nonetheless, that he didn't want to run into anyone he was personally acquainted with, and when he had originally decided on entering, he had figured that the noisy little club would be the perfect spot to turn his brain off for a bit.

The music was most definitely insufferable at first- boisterous enough to make a down and dolor mood worsen rapidly- but the initial sip of whiskey helped dull the acoustics right away. And soon, Rick was doing precisely what he had been longing to do since high noon. He could drown his sorrows without having to worry about small talk with meaningless people, or dread spotting a familiar face- one that might twist up in judgment towards him for his actions or question his obvious mood. Rick sincerely just was not up for it.

The unforseen events of the day weighed heavily on his mind and on his weary, close-to-collapse heart, and the whiskey and bass-thumping music was only merely quieting the earsplitting thoughts in his head. The fiery brown depressant worked for a few fleeting moments at a time. It was the best he could hope for, he began to tell himself, doubt hastily swooping in. He knew nothing was going to _truly_ ease his mental anguish- nothing except, maybe...?

" Hit me again," Rick called abruptly to the short, big-eyed bartender standing before hi as he downed the entirety of his drink and slammed the glass back onto the counter surface. With clouding eyes he soon found himself drawn back to the red apple that the bouncer had boldly stamped on the back of his right hand. He had liked the way the cold, crimson ink had settled into his weathered skin when he had initially walked in, swaggering past everyone for a dose of that necessary liquid courage at the swanky marbled bar. The raven haired bartender hadn't stopped tossing her hair or flirting with him since he had plopped his tired old rear into a stool, her wiry curls tucked behind her ear in a compulsory way- and so often that it started to look ridiculous.

" Hey now, take it easy, Officer, " she teased, batting her dark eyelashes at him as she filled his glass again slowly. She spilled a bit in her moment of distracted flirtation, her eyes on his low neckline. " This is the last one, okay? How are you gettin' home? " Rick rolled his eyes, an uncommon gesture for him. He soon heard himself mumbling under his breath, drunkenness making him unusually brazen. This woman was trifling. If that was the way young women behaved nowadays, he hadn't much to look forward to. She wasn't making any of this so-called 'harmless flirting' fun. She left much to be desired.

Removing his sheriff's hat with the slightest flourish of irritation, Rick set the piece of garb down in front of him next to his glass, lifting his drink to his mouth again and hesitating to speak as the rim graced his lips. He was beginning to think his objective had been pointless and absurd. He was a fool if he thought he would be any good at flirting back.

" I'll be just fine, " he replied into his cup indignantly. The young woman leaned into the half attempt at communication and propped an elbow up on the counter, clearly intrigued by small talk.

" You sure? " she pushed on. Rick chewed at the inside of his cheek, which was already raw from the day's stresses. This woman was still flirting shamelessly with him for some reason, even though Rick knew his eyes and face were void of glow and genuine feeling. He was hiding behind his mask again... just like he always had been. And as single and lonely as Rick was lately, he knew that he was not at all interested.

His luck with women had been downright horrific in the recent months. And his motivation was in much worse shape. Rick changed his mind altogether in one moment. He decided right then and there that he wasn't even going to bother wasting his time and using it to flirt back- not as practice for the future or otherwise. Who had he been fooling?! He would make an ass of himself or he would lead a woman on that he had no intention of dating, let alone conversing with or looking at. He was peeved- again.

He shook his head and downed another hefty sip, smacking his lips and running his tongue over a scurrying drop of caramel liquor trying its best to trickle into his ever-growing facial hair. With a sharp inhale, he pursed his lips and exhaled a rush of vapor, the bourbon further warming the depths of his empty belly. He could feel his inebreation plateau. Rick belched unabashedly and let a smirk curl its way onto the corner of his mouth. Though all else had seemed to fail, at least he had managed to intoxicate himself.

Suddenly, and with excessive eagerness, Rick's phone buzzed and vibrated from in his back pocket. His smirk faded away as quickly as it had appeared. He ignored the notification entirely, though a part of him pondered for a minute or two who it might be bothering him at such an hour. After glancing up and looking outside, he realized that he had been sitting there for a much longer time than he intended. Perhaps he was more tired than he anticipated. And with the moon competing for the stage with the sun now, he should have figured that the people in his life were wondering what was going on with him. His face was most likely plastered all over the television news.

His ex-girlfriend spent a lot of her time blowing up his phone with desperate texts, begging for second chances and third dates for months on end. Rick refused to respond, growing tired of it all, but she had yet to take the hint. And in addition to the nuisance of old relationships, his ex-wife had also been calling him constantly- to nag, to talk of custody battles and arranged visits; their only topics of conversation- and Rick had no desire whatsoever to address either caller.

He wanted nothing to do with either of them. Women in general were not on his mind or his agenda- not when they were causing him so much unnecessary grief. He had only entertained the thought of dating during his sobfest on the way home. He was already suffering so immensely. It had been idiotic to think that he even had the balls to strike up some banter with a woman, much less a classy one. And that alone was a sad enough thought. Rick glanced at his watch and twirled his glass absentmindedly, sloshing splashes of caramel and inhaling the scent of its potency.

 _10: 21pm,_ his silver keepsake watch read proudly.

Luckily for Rick, it was to be a quiet Friday night back in his home county. He planned to go back to his lonely house, sleep in excessively, and laze about for the remainder of his weekend. He hoped to take a much-needed respite- to relax, to fish- whatever. He would do anything to avoid thinking about how he had spent his day...

He almost couldn't bring himself to the thought of it.

An anxious, perspiring version of himself had taken his revolver from its holster for the first time in months, and Rick Grimes had yanked back the trigger with the barrel and sights primed directly between the vibrant blue eyes of a kid.

It hadn't necessarily been a child, his team had told him, but a nineteen year old young man nonetheless. It didn't make a difference to Rick. That boy was someone's child; someone's _everything._

The confrontation started with a routine traffic stop and ended with the nineteen year old threatening his girlfriend at gunpoint. When Rick had pulled the boy over, he felt a sense of dread. Something had felt off all day, and approaching the sedan from behind without backup proved to make Rick incredibly uneasy. His lunch sat nervously in his belly as he asked his partner to call the stop in to the station. Their supervisor gave them the go-ahead, and as Rick exited the cruiser, tapping the taillight and proceeding to the driver's side of the Toyota with caution, his heart had been racing a mile a minute.

When Rick stopped by the partially cracked window and breathed in the all too familiar toxic scent of his highly anticipated probable cause, he asked the young man to step out of the car and speak to him. Even though Rick told him that everything was going to be fine, the jittery suspect panicked as soon as he was to be frisked. Instantaneously, and with a mighty shout, the boy shoved Rick away from him and drew a black Beretta 92FS from the thick waistband of his blue jeans. Rick reacted instinctively and right away, and his urgency seemed to have saved lives. He unholstered his Python and took aim.

But the hostile young man had then proceeded to escalate things further by taking cover behind his beaten old car, opening the passenger side door quickly and grabbing his girlfriend by the vibrant red hair. Once the threat of the nine millimeter barrel was pointed at her temple and the sounds of her shrieks could be heard for yards, everything spiraled down further from there, and far too quickly. And yet, time slowed down for Rick from that moment on, senses heightened, atmosphere shifting, slow motion activating.

Rick's partner, Shane, nearly died in the midst of all the chaos that unfolded, taking a stray bullet from their suspects Beretta nine in the femoral artery and losing a frightening amount of blood on the pavement by the cruiser where he fell. Desperate not to end their suspects life, Rick pleaded with the young man and his hostage, trying his very best to keep them both calm. The armed teenager said things that both confused and frightened them all, and his bloodshot eyes, with the a absence of fire and soul, sent chills down Rick's spine. He continued persuading the boy gently, searching for every kind word in his hostage negotiation vocabulary, but when shots rang out in every direction, the Beretta barrel pointed out towards Rick and every possible innocent passerby filming the incident on their phones, Rick had no choice but to put the gunman down before anyone else was harmed and left bleeding on the hot pavement. It was their duty to stop the loss of life. Rick could not permit the shooting of the innocent teenager screaming and sobbing at the end of a barrel.

A peculiar mix of regret and relief overwhelmed Rick's senses and washed over him the very second he squeezed back the heavy trigger of his shiny six shooter. His six-inch, stainless Colt Python breathed smoke from the tip of the muzzle as Rick watched his victim fall to the asphalt like a boulder. The shrill sound of the girlfriend's screams still echoed in his discontented mind, rattling around in his brain like a projectile and refusing to leave.

The following hours were a hectic blur. The scene was cordoned off immediately thereafter, and as they wheeled Shane away on a stretcher and attended to the victim, Rick was removed from the area immediately and bombarded with questions before being taken to the station. His colleagues wrapped him up in a blanket and consoled him like a baby.

When Rick arrived at his place of work, he was questioned for a couple of hours more, reluctantly going along with the routine though he was dying to be at home crying in the shower and washing away specks of blood that had miraculously appeared on his skin. After reluctantly scratching down facts on the bold lines of familiar paperwork, Rick was then forced to hand over his service weapon and uniform. It was customary and mandatory, but only temporary, as it was key evidence, and after wrapping up the rest of the post incident procedure, the team let Rick go. They promised to call him and, with a thorough once-over, advised that he take the week ahead off from work and stay at home.

As Rick had pulled away from the curb in the change of clothes and boots he cleverly kept in his trunk, he overheard a bit of chatter on his radio. As of early evening, the young man he had shot was in the hospital in critical condition and the doctors had very little hope as to whether or not he would make it out alive. Rick went to visit him at Grady Memorial- out of pity, or guilt, or something else- he didn't know.

He drove all the way back into Atlanta instead of heading home for some much needed rest and a good cry as the sweltering July sun set on his back. And he ended his workday staring down at the boy's motionless body after they escorted him from yet another surgery. Rick was in a daze, entranced by beeping monitors and only feeling worse by the time he left the quiet hospital room. No one was checking up on him. No one was calling him to see how he was doing despite having just shot someone. The realization had left Rick cold, his already damaged heart hardening inside his achy chest.

Before leaving, Rick had taken the time to visit his partner as well after being notified that he was in the same hospital, fresh out of his own surgery and already healing. Shane was jovial and witty as usual and Rick felt only a slight consolation knowing that his friend would be alright. The man was his old high school best friend after all, and very much like a brother to him, despite the fact that Shane was now with Rick's ex wife, engaged and ignoring altogether the circumstances that led them to such relationships. Though Rick didn't mind much anymore, he was still getting over it gradually, sure that he deserved better, but lacking the hope to see it come to fruition. He had become so numb to the subject that a large part of him did not care anymore. A sliver of unbroken heart had an unknown desire... a flicker of flame.

When the pair of friends were finished catching up, Rick said goodbye to Shane and left the room downtrodden, trembling hands stuffed into his pockets. The hospital was crowded and unbearably loud and, just his luck, Rick ran right into his victim's family.

The parents of the young man Rick had shot were already pressing charges against him. And the burly father of the victim had then delivered what felt like a well-deserved uppercut to Rick's right jaw, cheekbone and eye socket as he tried to flee the hospital, the mother screaming and sobbing after him, her bony finger pointing in scrutiny as she shouted obscenities.

Rick had retreated to his squad car without a word returned, and he took off in search of solace. The image of his victim's head being thrown back by the .357 full metal jacket round flashed into his mind's eye repeatedly while he drove, and he shouted angrily in retreat as he sped away from all the dread he had caused, mashing the gas pedal down under his boot and beating the steering wheel with his fists- until he hadn't any energy left over.

With no one around, he could finally sob. The tears came from some deep, dark place, and they were as scalding as liquor as they ran down his face, warming his clammy skin and slipping into his parted lips, his chest wracked with weeping weight. His vision became so blurred that he was forced to pull over, and bright neon lights caught his eye, casting a hue of red-orange around him and affecting his mood drastically. He had parked his cruiser and stepped out into the early dusk, blinded by the low-hanging sun that dried his tears. He glanced up at the bright apple he had seen on his way home so many times before, wiping his last approaching tears away and heading inside...

Rick mentally shook his head, ridding himself of his many scattered thoughts and memories again. The bourbon wasn't helping the way he thought it would, and he gritted his teeth in displeasure, slamming his glass down in frustration; so vigorously that it shattered into pieces. It startled him and the bartender alike.

" I'm sorry, " he drawled halfheartedly, talking around the fog of his mild drunkenness. He looked from the bartender to the pile of glass shards in a pool of ice and bourbon and then back again before grabbing his hat. Retrieving a crumpled one hundred dollar bill from his dark leather wallet, he threw the money down on the counter as tip, payment and apology and shoved his money keeper back into his rear pocket.

As he stood to leave and turned away, he saw the bartenders lips move frantically, but he didn't hear a word of what she spoke, and he didn't care to. He licked his lips again and made his way down the bar, pushing into the crowd of awkwardly dancing people and feeling claustrophobic as he placed his sheriff's hat back atop his curls. The sound waves moved around him, and he was astonishing to realize that he liked this atmosphere. Something _felt_ pleasant, even though none of it had helped his sorrows... yet.

A new song started. The DJ played the most lively of musical numbers, popular hip-hop and rhythm and blues pieces Rick had never heard. He liked them. It made his heart feel something in a more positive light. The track began softly, and it was catchy and sensual, the tempo quickly becoming more upbeat. The bass was thumping distinctly, and it caused his head to throb. Rick inadvertently made it to the edge of the crowd of people around the center of the dancefloor. His boozing and tipsiness had disoriented him in such an unfamiliar place, and he had gone the wrong way, further away from the entrance than he had initially hoped. He surely did not want to dance, instead looking around in search of an exit.

In his hunt for an escape, he froze, gaze zeroing in like a fluid camera shot. Rick noticed an eye-catching woman, moving beneath the colorful, strobbing lights. His clouded vision cleared and his sight locked onto her. And he didn't know how he had managed to do that with a vat of Kentucky bourbon in his system.

The goddess was the center of attention, seemingly the only smile in the somehow dismal room, and she was dazzling everyone with her aura and presence and movements. Her much more timid friend stepped up and tried to pull her back into the crowd, appearing to scold her, but the beautiful woman swatted at her friend playfully, freeing herself from her grasp and twirling back to the expanse of sparkling black flooring to dance merrily.

Everyone was watching her, but as she turned, her long arms over her head and her hips circling, her eyes met Rick's. Her dark gaze warmed him more than the Evan Williams settling in his belly, and he blinked in surprise as he listened to the pounding bass and the lyrics of the song in all their miraculous irony.

 _Baby, this is what you came for_  
 _Lightning strikes every time she moves_  
 _And everybody's watching her_  
 _But she's looking at you, you, you_

Rick had never seen a woman like her in all his forty one years on the Earth he knew as only miserable now. Her skin, marvelously atramentous, gleamed spectacularly beneath the flashing technicolor lights, her slender body and long deadlocked hair undulating to the pulsing rhythm of the music. Her lustrous locs were swept behind her and accentuated with thick golden beads. The sections of shiny crafted trendils rained down the exposed skin of her sleek back like vines. Rick felt himself swooning like a fool. Alcohol consumption had never made him see a woman in such a way before.

She wore a tight sleeveless orange top, cropped at the midsection to showcase her toned stomach, and the summery color popped brilliantly against her chocolate-toned skin. Each of her arms were adorned with a few bronzed bracelets, accenting her complexion with their shimmer, and her belly button peeked shyly from behind the top hem of a dark cocoa leather miniskirt. Those bottoms encased flawless legs; shiny, tempting gams that stretched on and on and on. And they ended with ankles carved by a masterful creator. Not even her toes were neglected, adored with jewels and looking just as delicious as the rest of her. She wore dark platform sandals that matched her skirt, and her steps were graceful and coordinated as she danced stunningly, a moving sight for sore eyes amidst the otherwise unappealing shindig that had been taking place under the strobes of rainbows since he had arrived. All eyes were on her and she didn't pay anyone any mind at all...

No one except Rick.

 _Baby, this is what you came for_  
 _Lightning strikes every time she moves_  
 _And everybody's watching her_

 _But she's looking at you, ooh, ooh_

It snuck up on him, but he was amazed when he realized that he was beginning to like the song booming out of the surround sound subwoofers. Suddenly the stunning woman was approaching him, shimmying in perfect rhythm to the music; still dancing and twirling impressively, an arresting smile on her plump, fig lips. Rick was frozen in place. He was almost positively certain that he was dreaming; that all the liquor he had poisoned his system with had finally caused him to blackout, and he was now drooling on the floor in a drunken stupor, fantasizing of some unreal temptress he could never hope to have.

And then at last, she was in front of him, and his heart was pounding violently in his chest and in his throat and in his ears as she reached out to him without an ounce of hesitation, her long fingers soon clutching the fabric beneath the white collar of his t-shirt and pulling him in. She walked backwards in time with beat of the song, his white tee stretching along after her while she dragged him out onto the dance floor. He followed like a hungry dog.

He took the opportunity to drink in her features like a tall glass of water the morning of a hangover, hitching a breath in awe at the sight of her ravishing face and luscious form. She was absolutely beautiful. And Rick was floored. He wished he had always known that face; had never been without the sight of her beauty. Life could have been better with a face like that peering up at him. Her deep, dark brown eyes looked black despite themselves and they glimmered with amusement in the low, artificial light, a thin layer of mascara elongating the already endless lashes that framed those bewitching orbs. She was petite, but long-limbed- fit, but curvy. And her hair fell in the most breathtaking craft down her exposed back, framing her elegant features and vixenish design. There was no way a woman this magnificent would give him the time of day.

Had he read her incorrectly? A part of him feared that he had been mistaken; that he had been wrong in assuming what she wanted and he had misinterpreted her apparent sexual connotations. But alas; he could feel the electricity between them, and he could feel the pull of her desire, seeking him out as her match. He could see it in her eyes. And he didn't want to refuse her. No matter how unlikely it seemed for a woman like her to even be seen talking to him in the first place.

" Uh, miss? I'm not- I- I don't dance much, " he stammered uselessly, stumbling clumsily and following blindly behind her, powerless and nearly stupified. He glanced down when she let go of his shirt and turned slowly, and he caught sight of the thickest, most delightfully rotund ass he had ever had the pleasure of beholding, round and robustly full in all its wiggling perfection. As she made it back to the center of the dancefloor, she rotated to face him fully. Her cute nose scrunched when she started to laugh. She glanced up at him, gaze flickering around his features and settling, and she took his breath away easily. Her smile warmed him further. She had the lips of a diety, full and shiny and forbidden to be kissed by mere mortals. Rick swallowed hard. He wouldn't stand a chance.

He blushed and nibbled at the soft inside of his cheek, lustful thoughts stampeding his already foggy mind. A gold necklace with a pendant 'M' lay at the base of her regal neck and it captured the lights around them like trapped fireflies, the flickers winking at him flirtatiously. He was on the brink of breaking into a nervous sweat, and Rick felt lightheaded when she leaned towards him slowly, stretched up onto her tiptoes, and pressed her pretty mouth to his ear to whisper:

" Dance with me. " Her voice was honeyed and melancholy and sultry and Rick couldn't even begin to contemplate refusing her offer, her words sending an awakening shiver down his spine. She started to sway immediately, her hips working magic against him, guiding him, and Rick joined her bashfully with obedient haste, his hands on her slender waist, his fingers faintly digging into her soft mounds of flesh at her waist to bring her closer. She turned her back to him, dreads swinging wildly, and she pressed herself against his crotch, hips circling in perfect rhythm, her remarkable ass digging into him and her fluffy hair brushing against his face. Rick inhaled deeply, and she smelled of coconuts and buttery sweetness and his mouth watered savagely.

When she moved her touch down towards his forearms, closing her hand around each of them, his skin tingled. An electric current like no other passed between the two sensual dancers touching beneath the rainbow lights and disco ball in the center of the floor. Rick was seconds away from melting into a puddle at her pretty feet. When she found his wrists, she covered his knuckles and fingers with hers, interlocking their digits. She used her hold on him to direct his moves and lead him, her hips working along with her and influencing the sway of his.

Her energy was palpable- magnetic and alluring. And her hair waved in a hypnotic dance all its own, her scent and pheromone- laced sweat wafting into his welcoming nostrils. He could drool at the whiff of her; so sweet, so achingly tempting. Her grinding hips influenced his rhythm, and he let her do as she pleased.

Rick- who had never allowed himself to be guided or controlled- was powerless to stop the trance she ensorseled over him. She moved with such a sexy grace, her confidence rubbing off on him in potent doses. A cocky smile found its way to his lips when he saw how the other men looked at her- and the way they looked at him for being with her, and it made his pride swell and his mind ease, his concerns fading into nothingness. She seemed to be a remedy.

Reaching up and removing his hat, she threw it into the crowd of onlookers and giggled. Rick thought he would care, since he loved that silly hat dearly for some odd reason, but her musical laughter and smiling face and rotating hips had him thinking of nothing else- of no one else- but her.

With her back pressed against his chest, her ass still rubbing against him, he watched her close her eyes and raise a hand to touch his hair as she danced with him. The gesture made him tense in suspense and then relax beneath her touch, and Rick heard himself moan quietly, goosebumps springing up from where her fingertips danced across his skin. She ran her fingers through his tresses, sighing at the feel of his spun silk curls slipping through her hands. He shivered from her affections, trailing his palm over her stomach, down her thighs and back up again, swaying with her in time to the throbbing music. She was dizzying him- intoxicating him furthermore.

Everything was happening so rapidly- it must have all been a dream- it seemed so unfathomable for him to be dancing at all, yet alone with a woman as fascinating as her. There was an alluring enigma in her eyes; a mysterious sparkle that appeared when their gazes locked repeatedly. And it made his skin and insides tingle again and again, and he heard his breath catch once more. There was something about her. His stomach was in knots now, tighter than ever before. She turned a bit again, facing him shortly in the other direction, and her own warm, sweet breath washed over him and oozed down his throat; an amazing chaser for his whiskey. He took in her essence thirstily and he tasted her on the air for a brief moment. It left him stunned and hungry for her, and his mind started to spin as his mouth began to water and his mind began to race.

What the hell was happening? How was he even dancing? How had he managed with all the booze in his system? And when he become so suave? Only minutes before he was convinced that nothing was written in the stars for him- that his first love had been his only chance at happiness and he was now forever doomed to live his life in awkward solitude- doomed to fail at every interaction with the opposite sex and destined to be a divorcee for the pitiful remainder of his time left on Earth...

And then the astounding woman in his arms- the type of woman that usually never glanced in the direction of a civil servant like him- was changing his negative mindset and giving him hope. She was causing an unprecedented level of confidence in him. Rick held her hourglass waist tighter and pressed closer, groaning unintentionally from the animal magnetism that mystified him and kept them connected. And he watched her smile beautifully from the sound he made, her persuasive, revolving body moving with his in arousing repetition. She felt so good against him; soothing, warm and promising. His heart seized.

Their moment in the spotlight went on for what seemed like an hour, and Rick felt a bit ridiculous for a moment standing there with her, knowing how fine she looked in her jaw-dropping outfit. His white t-shirt and mid-wash blue jeans hardly competed or stood out, but she didn't seem to care. He still wore a pair of worn old cowboy boots, his backup pair free of telling blood stains. He could never seem to leave the house without donning a pair of his customary footwear.

Be that as it may, he knew his choice of clothing didn't really matter- not when a woman so marvelously dressed was with him, and was paying such close attention to him. It was a better choice than his uniform, and he was grateful for that, but a part of him still felt foolish in comparison, admiring every inch of the regal woman gyrating against him as he dipped her at the waist and eyed her as she straightened out upright slowly with the aid of his embrace.

But he didn't realize how absolutely perfect they looked together dancing in sync, as if their bodies were made to fit each other in every way, seamlessly suitable for each other in every nook and cranny. Rick peered over at the mirrored wall on the far side of the club, and he saw the reflection of himself and the belle dancing with him. He was astonished at how impeccable they looked as a pair, their contrasting skin tones and their opposite dispositions still fitting naturally somehow. People were watching them closely, admiring their obvious and heated chemistry with smiles and flirtations of their own amongst each other. They were turning people on and no one could ignore them.

And Rick couldn't ignore what was going on either. Her interest in him out of every other man in the bar was beyond flattering, but he wondered what she saw in him. He wanted to know her name _so_ badly, he could almost taste it, just as he could taste a hint of her on the air again when he inhaled and curled his tongue around his mouth. He was so anxious to say her name aloud, perhaps while he was buried deep inside her, and the thought actually startled him.

He had never been so forward about anything, or as sure of himself as he was right then, but he knew undoubtedly that he wanted nothing more than to take her home with him tonight; to carry her off to his bed and make love to her until dawn broke into a new day spectacularly outside his window. If she asked, and if she allowed him to, he knew by the stirring in his heart and in his soul and in his loins that it would be impossible to refuse her.

 _Goddamn,_ he thought. How long had it been since he felt such a way about anyone? Had it been months- no, much longer. Had it been years? Had it been all of his life? Bourbon was doing something to him that it never had before.

She turned in his arms and looked up at him, and her eyes flashed something dark and dangerous. Rick felt his stomach clench and tumble into his throat, bobbing there and then tumbling back down.

 _Baby, this is what you came for_  
 _Lightning strikes every time she moves_  
 _And everybody's watching her_  
 _But she's looking at you, ooh, ooh_

He was growing stone hard from her perfect backside being rubbed against him constantly, and he couldn't recall the last time his erection had ever been so achingly stiff. He didn't know what to do with himself. She circled her arms around his neck, her ample breasts pressing against him, and she reached up and tugged faintly at his nape, touching his curls and admiring them. Rick knew she could feel his hard on and her sweet smile widened. She grinned harder up at him, clearly flattered, and her groomed eyebrows elevated. She glanced down, timidly peering back up at him through her lashes and taking her juicy bottom lip into her mouth to nibble it teasingly.

Rick wrapped his arms around her hips more snuggly, resting his hands on the curved small of her back, just above her full, round cheeks, and they kept on dancing, never faltering, swaying and making love on the dance floor. Her body and curves fit marvelously in his grasp and against him, and it felt like he had known her longer than the last few minutes. He wondered if she sensed their tension; and their chemistry, in the same way that he did, the heated air between them igniting, encircling them and further arousing him.

 _We go fast with the game we play_  
 _Who knows why it's gotta be this way_

Suddenly, she threaded her fingers deeper into his hair, kneading his scalp, and she pulled his face down to hers and stood up on her tiptoes. And then she was whispering in his ear again, giving him an answer to his ponderings.

" Take me home with you. "

Her voice was mouthwatering music. His stomach flipped at her words, and still somehow he managed to keep moving to the beat with her, feeling himself blush all over almost instantaneously. They never lost their rhythm, lost instead in each others eyes, and Rick kept wanting to pinch himself, just in case he really was dreaming.

But she had to be real. He couldn't dream up someone so extraordinary; his imagination didn't have the capacity to create such beauty. She was a masterpiece and he was already entranced by her. She looked like a painting; a magnum opus of earthy shades with an air of enigmatic soul. Rick bit his bottom lip hard, another dubious part of him still wondering if he was blacked out drunk. This all had to be too good to be true... right? After what had happened to him only hours before had led to this? He deserved to have a goddess grinding up against him and smiling at him fondly? The excitement sparking a flame of newfound joy in his heart was frightening him down to his socks. His mind was reeling and instead of whirling worries, it was full of pleasant thoughts and wondrous possibilities of the future ahead that he had never been able to fathom before. No matter how scary, or how unpredictable it could be, there was no way in hell he would refuse her request. Her suddenly dancing into his life had become life-changing in an instant.

 _We say nothing more than we need_  
 _I say, "Your place," when we leave_

She turned around again, mouthing the lyrics as her body moved, her back to him, her hands on his thighs as she danced. Rick felt an inclination to dip his head and he nuzzled her neck while she ground her ass up against him.

 _Fuck me_ , he thought, bold enough to run his nose up the curve of her neck. _She's perfect_.

Was this what had brought him to the random club? On the very night he had taken a life for the first time? Had fate dragged him here, on this day, on the hour, to have this miracle woman in his arms? Though he hadn't been the object of anyone's affection for months now? Though it seemed to be the last thing he deserved?

He wanted her, and badly. And as the fire in his belly, once long forgotten, began to burst forth and burn wildly and sizzle his insides, he realized that he _had_ to have her. Rick needed to feel something and he wanted to feel it with her.

When she rotated to look up in his eyes, he licked his lips and dropped his gaze to hers. Her own were pouty and glossed over and they looked so sweet that his mouth watered fiercely again. With her hands still in his hair, his nape tingling from her touch, she pulled his face down to hers with demanding force and kissed him deeply, taking every ounce of his breath away.

Her mouth was so soft, so sweet; she made him melt instantly. Tachycardia set in and his breath rushed away from him through his nostrils, tickling their fused lips. The flavor of her was unimaginably sugary, and he kissed her back with everything he had, his heart pounding furiously in his chest, the beats bouncing up his throat and into his mouth so violently that he could taste them along with her candylike saliva and cloying kisses. Her lips were even softer than he had imagined when he first laid eyes on her. And her tongue delightfully surprised him, slipping in for a sample of him in which he gladly gave her. When she curled that sweet, wet tongue around his, he nearly came in his pants.

He was lost, still swooning there on the dance floor and hearing himself breathe raggedly as she urged her hot, slippery tongue further down his throat and guided his hands back to her plump, round booty. He groped each bun eagerly and moaned, completely forgetting where he was, lost in the solace of her kiss. She took every bit of control and he let her. The world fell away and it snatched down all of his worries with it.

Rick devoured his goddess of a prize, holding her tight enough to let her know that he had no intention of letting go anytime soon. Her heart beating against his, and the warmth of her body in the palms of his hands, made his spirit soar and sore. He ached somewhere profound, and he deepened the ferocity of his affection, giving himself over to her with complete heart-on-the-sleeve surrender. It was so easy to. Her lips had put him under a spell that he _never_ wanted to emerge from again.

He had an inkling that nothing was ever going to feel the same way again. And he didn't understand how or why he felt that way, but it occurred precisely when he had thought that he would never find a single soul to even socialize comfortably with again, yet alone make him feel anything at all. And now he had somehow run into a beauty so captivating that he couldn't stop thinking about her to save his life, even with her still right there in his arms, kissing him back in such a naughty way that he feared he would never think straight again.

He wondered what her name was and where her thoughts drifted to and what her favorite song might be or what made her laugh. He wanted to know so that he could play something or do something or be whatever it was that she needed- just to make her giggle again: smile again. The sound and sight of her joy made something overwhelming and supernatural blossom inside him and come to life again, and he had forgotten that it was ever there to begin with. He had been so numb for so very long. What was happening to him...?

 _Baby, this is what you came for_  
 _Lightning strikes every time she moves_  
 _And everybody's watching her_  
 _But she's looking at you, ooh, ooh_

The song came to an end and Rick never knew anything could be as difficult as pulling away from a kiss. His mouth had never felt more blessed. With their lips no longer fastened, he could concentrate just enough to gingerly grab her hand, dying to sweep her off her feet and take her away to some private place. Her hand was small in his, and stamped with the same small red apple from the bouncer at the door. He loved the way she fit against him.

Rick led her off the dance floor before the music had even fully finished, glancing back at her and repeatedly catching her gaze. With a speedy look at his watch, his eyes widened. In less than four minutes, this mysterious beauty had utterly captivated him and he was dumbfounded, ready to take her back to his house and please her until the sun bathed his room in morning light.

 _Is this really gonna happen?_ he wondered, feeling his face heat. It had been eons since he was intimate with anyone. She interlaced their fingers, her hand warm and comforting in his as they made their way to the bar. Rick stopped to turn and look at her as they approached. She climbed up gracefully and sat down on a stool, her long, perfect legs pressed against his as he joined her standing adjacent. Rick blinked, drinking in her breathtaking features again and she smiled brightly and beautifully, dazzling him momentarily.

" You want a drink? " he murmured when he recovered, leaning over to speak gently into her ear. He was practically shaking in his boots with nervousness. He inhaled her intoxicating scent again, her silky dreads tickling his cheek as he pulled back to stare at her. She leaned forward to whisper in his ear in return, letting go of his hand and grasping his shirt once more.

" No, " she purred dauntlessly, " I want _you_." He nearly moaned aloud. She was gutsy, and bold, and she knew exactly what she wanted. He almost asked her why; why on earth would a woman like her want a guy like him, but he banished the thought of doubt from his mind and shyly smiled down at her. " Don't be nervous, " she said, reading him with ease somehow. " I won't bite unless you want me to. " He blushed even harder, and she touched an elegant, kind hand to his arm. Rick felt another surge of confidence and a positive thrill for the first time in months. She was delectable company and a vision after such a hard day. Rick thought she made a beautiful mirage. If he was dreaming, he deciding that he wanted to stay fast asleep forever. Her proximity and feminine warmth felt too incredible to behold in his state of inebriation. But he was a lucky man, and the thought alone prompted a smile back down at her.

A woman approached them, interrupting their moment, and she wore a black bodycon dress and shoes that looked like they belonged to a stripper, her short blonde hair swaying in careless waves. It was the friend who had discouraged the stunning woman from dancing. Rick's hat dangled from her left hand.

" Mich! " the woman yelled with a stomp of the foot, appearing agitated.

 _Mich,_ Rick mused, _Michelle?_ She didn't look like a Michelle. She didn't look like anyone he had ever seen. Rick was terrible at guessing names but he was dying to know hers. She regarded her friend with a look of discontent, standing and tugging at her skirt. She pulled her friend aside and Rick turned his back to them, though he couldn't help but to eavesdrop.

" What are you doing? , " the friend asked.

" Going home with him , " the beauty replied confidently. Hearing her clarify it made him all the more excited. He was embarrassingly giddy, and he forced himself to contain his emotions.

" You've never done that before! Why are you starting now? And with some cop? You know how those guys are. You don't even really know him! "

"Do _not_ admonish me like I'm some child, Andrea Harrison, and don't doubt my intuition. I know what I'm doing... " She flipped her dreadlocks over her shoulder, beads twinkling.

" Oh, really? " said the so-called Andrea.

" I can tell what kind of man he is... He's awful sweet... and cute as hell too, isn't he? " He heard that giggle again and he blushed, his stomach fluttering. He felt nostalgic, like he was a schoolboy again. " I want to get to know him, " the gorgeous woman continued. " And God, he's sexy. I'm gonna go home with him and let him fuck my brains out. " His heart seized again, much more harshly this time, and her friend laughed loudly, shaking her head, her hair still swaying.

" Okay, girl. Fine... Just call me if you need anything. You had just the one glass of white wine, right? " she asked, prompting the goddess to nod and swat at her.

" I'll be fine... More than fine. " Her friend smirked and met Rick's eyes, giggling and still shaking her head as she handed over Rick's hat and turned to leave. The goddess approached him once again, grinning contagiously. She had such a knockout smile and his heart did a jig as he caught the breath she had stolen away. " Wanna get outta here? " she asked, one brow arching. Rick nodded, trying to conceal his enthusiasm, but his heart was on the verge of bursting at the seams. There was something about her; he couldn't help but notice it, and couldn't put his finger on it. And it wasn't the bourbon talking -he was sure of that. He could feel it in that primal sweet spot: in a place that didn't feel much of anything anymore- until now.

Something about her was special. And he wanted to find out what it was that had him so entranced and utterly consumed.

" My friend found your hat, " the beauty said, smiling and placing it atop her head. It looked even better on her. He smiled back at her, triumphantly taking her hand again, and they left the bar, stepping out onto the sidewalk together simultaneously. They felt a charge of electricity between them the instant they were alone. Rick knew that she could feel it too. And it was stronger than what they had felt inside, now amplified by their privacy and the quietude that came with it. Their eyes met for a moment before their lips touched again, moans escaping them as Rick eased her back against the brick wall of the bar, his hand under her shirt, caressing her back. Her skin was impossibly smooth and he couldn't stop stroking her under the appreciative touch of his thumb. His mouth parted slowly and her tongue greeted his with no restraint. It didn't take long for him to need air. She was a magician when it came to taking his breath away.

" Tell me your name, " he whispered against her mouth, fixed on how moist and soft her lips were, and he kissed her again softly before she could answer.

" Michonne, " she murmured, her fingers running up along the back of his neck and tangling into his hair. She liked that spot, and as long as she did, he would let her touch him there whenever she wanted. Michonne slipped her tongue back into his mouth. He groaned, grabbing her hips and digging his fingers into her softness. He pulled her closer, bringing their bodies together greedily. They grew breathless, kissing and petting on the sidewalk for every passerby to see. They had forgotten altogether that they were in public, oblivious to everything else but each other." I've never-. " She took in a breath as well. " I've never done anything like this before, " she finished, smiling against him and sucking his bottom lip until it turned rosy pink. He moaned and pulled away, almost afraid of the effect she was having on him, terrified that he was feeling things so abruptly.

" Me either, " he replied with a lighthearted chuckle. He pulled back further, slowly and purposefully, and he looked down at her, watching her dark eyes flutter open. " But you want to, right? , " he asked hopefully, his teeth fastened around his bottom lip and his heart fluttering the wildest beat.

" Yes, " Michonne whispered back, leaning into his chest. " Yes, I do...Rick Grimes. "

 **Michonne's POV**

With a satisfied grin, Michonne watched Rick's handsome face shift in expression as he took a moment to process her utterance. He was obviously taken aback, regarding her with a furrowed greying brow and a slight pout on his pinkish lips, his head tilted, his blue eyes twinkling.

" How do you know my name?... You some kinda stalker? " he quipped charmingly. Surprisingly, Michonne found herself laughing. Rick's hat fell from its perch atop her head as she giggled and leaned forward, doubled over in a fit of hysterics with her face against his chest. She hadn't laughed so hard or so much in a long time. She didn't know what had come over her. She had an odd sensation in her stomach that she could not rid. Maybe it was the wine. " What? " Rick asked, prompting her further, and his hand brushed her arm tenderly, awakening goosebumps despite the humid night. " What's so funny? "

" Nothing, " Michonne snickered, leering and peering up at eyes that sparkled down at her.

" Tell me, c'mon, " Rick said playfully, his fingers lightly tracing one jutted pelvic bone beneath her umber skin. " How do you know my name? "

" You're the head sheriff's deputy of King County, right? I know I'm right. I see you on the news every time something goes on in that little town... " His eyes brightened even more now. " You think you can just walk around in this hat, and those sexy ass cowboy boots _and_ that obvious as hell gunbelt of yours and no one will recognize a famous small town deputy like yourself? ... I mean, I know most people probably don't, but I actually pay attention. " She smiled up at him, another giggle forming uncontrollably, and Rick's eyes danced as he listened to her laugh. He was clearly enjoying the sound of it.

" Yeah, I guess you're right about that, " he chuckled. " I forget that kinda thang sometimes. Just my regular clothes if ya ask me. So... let me guess, you've been crushin' on me for some reason and admirin' me from afar and when you saw me in there, you decided to try to seduce me, huh?... _Michonne_. " She stopped laughing abruptly, meeting his ocean gaze. She loved the way her name sounded in and from his mouth, drawn out with his heavy southern accent and dripping from his enticing tongue, his soft lips pursed on the final syllable. Michonne wanted him to say it again, in her ear, perhaps while he was buried deep inside of her. She throbbed at the thought, surprised by it thoroughly. She squeezed her thighs together, seeking relief from the pressure rapidly building there.

He was so sexy- more sexy than he looked on television- and he had already been sexy enough in that format anyway. She _had_ been admiring him, for quite some time. She had seen him on the news at least a dozen times now, the first time nearly a year ago, and he had had a wedding ring on his finger then, in every shot. But when she saw him at the bar when he first arrived, her heart had leapt at her recognition of his handsome face, and she peered down at his hand, his ring finger bare, the gold band absent, and she had smiled victoriously before she had even introduced herself.

She had had a _very_ good feeling about what was to come.

And despite Andrea's annoying and unwanted advice against her desire to approach him, Michonne had decided it was the perfect opportunity to seduce the man she had been secretly, and a bit unknowingly, crushing on for months like a schoolgirl. She liked him. And she wanted him.

And Michonne always got what she wanted; that much was true. She had heard that factoid declared several times, by her family and the people in her life alike.

" Did it work? " she purred in inquiry. " Did I successfully seduce you? " She watched his kissable lips turn up into a crooked little smile.

" Yes, " he replied. " Can't you tell?... How could it not work? " Her heart doubled its pace and a fire ignited inside of her, somewhere dark and warm and deep. She had such a big crush on him that she felt silly again, as if she was years younger. Throughout the recent months of working and struggling, she never thought she would meet him... but here he was, by chance perhaps, as handsome as ever in real time and standing before her, those rough hands she had felt on her body just minutes prior now planted on his own hips.

Michonne wanted them on her ass again- wanted to be wrapped around him, stuck to him like the stickiest of candies. He inched closer, staring into her eyes, and his gaze subdued her for a moment. He cupped her chin and gauged her reaction before pressing his lips to hers again. Her eyes fluttered closed. And she discovered then that his presence was a little overwhelming. She almost felt as though she wasn't ready for what was to come, feeling apprehension for the first time since she came out for the night. "I want you, " Rick declared, his tongue on her bottom lip, whiskey leaving his mouth sweet and hot. The scruff of his beard against her provided a panty-wetting sensation she was powerless to stop, but she wanted it to happen anyway.

" I want you, too, " she whispered, her glass of wine giving her much-needed liquid courage and speaking for her in lieu of her unfounded anxiety. She knew she wanted him- she had for a while now- and once she knew for certain, once his arms closed around her in an almost possessive fashion all doubt quickly vanished from her mind. " And I always get what I want, " she finished. Rick pulled back and smiled down at her roguishly.

" Then I'll call us a cab. "

•••

The ride to King County from Atlanta in hectic Friday night traffic would take at least half an hour or more on a good night, but it didn't seem like it was to be one of those good nights. The road was packed with cars full of aggravated drivers, on their way home to relax for the summer weekend. Michonne watched Rick lock his shiny squad car and saunter over to the parked cab. Her index finger lifted to her lips as she admired his physique and movements, bow-legged, swaggering walk and all. His thrilling and threatening firearm bobbed about in its holster on his shockingly wide hips. The police car made a shrill little beep and Michonne smiled with faintly sore lips.

She hoped to ride in that cruiser one day with him. She made the simple, silly wish on the spot as Rick slid into the taxi next to her and slammed the door, smiling down at her sweetly. Immediately, she reached over and rested her hand on his thigh, feeling him tense and then instantaneously relax under her touch. Their eyes linked and simultaneous smiles widened.

The taxi driver called back over his shoulder and asked where they were headed and Rick tore his gaze away to give his address before turning his attention back to Michonne. He scooted closer to her and threw his arm over the back of the seat, tickling her shoulder with his fingertips. Their bodies were already attuned to each other after all that sensuous dancing. She felt like a little magnet. And Rick appeared truly relaxed for the first time that night as the taxi began its slow journey to King County.

" Knowin' Atlanta traffic, I figure I've got a little time with you before we get to my place," he said, glancing down at his watch. "So... Michonne... That's pretty. Ain't a name I hear often, though. Not at all, actually. "

" It's French," she told him, nuzzling her body closer and still feeling a bit shy...but incredibly turned on. No man had ever caused such a swift reaction in her before. She clearly liked him, and her body did too. He smelled of aftershave and earthy, musky cologne, his five o'clock shadow making a faint, lovely appearance across his jawline and tanned cheeks. His dark curls wrapped around his ears and decorated the back of his neck. She already knew how incredibly soft they were to the touch but she wanted to feel them again. Their eyes met, and Michonne saw the beautiful flashes of blue in his as they passed the city lights, something else hidden there in them and flickering wildly.

" Hmm...I like it, " Rick murmured. " Do you speak any French? "

" _Oui, couramment_ , " Michonne whispered in reply. Rick flashed a sexy smile, running his hand down her spine and settling back comfortably, his legs spread, one knee against her.

" What do you do for a livin'? " he asked, ever-curious. His hand drifted further until it rested on the curve of her ass, the both of them trying their hardest to ignore their very obvious and very potent sexual tension, and to focus on getting to know each other in other ways.

" I'm a criminal defense attorney, " she replied and Rick's dark brows raised a few fractions. He was obviously impressed. " Murder and manslaughter cases mostly. Things like that. "

" Ah, so we're both part of the legal system, huh? " he said. " I arrest 'em and send 'em your way. " He chuckled. " You enjoy it? " Michonne sighed as he dragged his fingers over the sliver of exposed skin above her miniskirt.

Certain days were definitely much harder than others. The past day in particular had been especially trying. Michonne had just lost a case defending a mother who had killed her abusive husband brutally in what had appeared, to some, an act of self-defense. The woman was going to prison for twenty-five years and Michonne felt downright awful about it- down to her bones. She had gone out for the night with her closest of friends, Andrea, for the first time in ages, to take her mind off of the guilt and shame she felt over her unforeseen case loss. Knowing that her client sat in a jail cell at that very moment, while Michonne went out and looked for fun to be had as a comfortable means of healthy distraction, made her feel like the guilty party instead of the other way around.

" Some days are quite...difficult. And stressful... And heartbreaking, " Michonne murmured in fading reply, her eye contact with Rick intense; unwavering. " Today was one of those days. " Rick swallowed hard, and she could read a bit of torment swimming in the basking blue of his breathtaking eyes. She was shocked to know that she yearned to know why; the reason behind the sorrow that almost mirrored hers.

" It was for me too, " Rick said, lifting his hand to clutch the back of her neck, his thumb stroking her there. His touch was amazingly warm, and his hot palm was a stimulating comfort. Michonne had never liked being touched so frequently, but Rick had a rare caress, memorable and uplifting. He chuckled a little, but the smile did not reach his beautiful eyes. " Honestly, there's so much goddamn struggle in the field... but I could name my least favorite thing about my work in a heartbeat. The one thing that really grinds my gears by the end of the day... " Michonne raised a brow this time.

" So can I... , " she replied. " Did we both end up hating the same thing when it comes to our careers? No way. "

" Say yours on three... , " Rick challenged, thumb moving back and forth on her skin. " One, two... three- . "

" _Paperwork! "_ the two canoodling adults blurted simultaneously. A burst of laughter followed and they grinned at each other, grateful that the other understood completely. Michonne shook her head and tucked a dreadlock away.

" I came out tonight to get my mind off of thangs... , " Rick murmured. " What about you? " Michonne blinked slowly at him. She wondered what had happened to him; why he sought refuge in the same club she had wandered into with Andrea for the exact reason. Were coincidences and good intentions the combination for matchmaking?

" Y-yeah, " Michonne retorted in a near whisper, stammering a bit. She was never one to stutter. Rick was having an impact on her already and it was overwhelming. " I did too. " They stared at each other for a few more moments, and it was the first time that silence with another person wasn't awkward for either of them. They felt comfortable in each other's companydespite having just met, and it was astounding to realize that they were in for a rare treat: one that people aspired to like children with their fairy tales. Rick lifted a hand to her face, running his thumb over her apple cheek and guiding her mouth to his sheepishly.

They kissed again, deeply and intensely this time, forgetting about their burdensome day and focusing on each other instead. All that mattered right then was the two of them, no matter how selfish it felt to think so. Michonne could lose herself easily in his kiss. And she had a feeling she wouldn't tire of those plump pink lips being pressed against hers anytime soon.

" Tell me somethin' dirty to say to you in French so I can say it back to ya, " Rick drawled suddenly, pulling away only to whisper in her ear. His voice was low and growling, a rumble in his chest. Since she had mentioned it, it seemed he couldn't stop imagining her cooing in the love language, perhaps whilst he daydreamed about nestling himself deep inside her and caressing her worries away. He got a faraway look in his eyes when he absorbed and enjoyed a glimpse of her, and when his musings were through, he directed his gaze to hers again, and just like that, the air in the cab shifted. She had read his demeanor flawlessly. She knew what he wanted before he had asked. Michonne wanted to fulfill his wildest imaginations and dreams. She knew that she could, and she knew what could come of it. Rick's curiosity about her was flattering and suggestive.

She was also grateful for the change of subject, the focus no longer on the topic of their stressful work or negative moments. Michonne giggled, covering her mouth with her hand and leaning in towards Rick.

 _Oh, this is going to be fun,_ she thought. " Ok, " she told him. " Say...' _Je veux toucher votre chatte_ '." Rick blushed, watching her lips purse and her tongue flick. He stumbled over the words and she recited them to him again. He finally repeated them to her, failing the dialect completely and still saying the statement in his heavy accent, and she smiled slowly, hearing him declare it. She bit her lip.

" What'd you make me say?, " he asked, smiling when he noticed her expression. Michonne laughed, shaking her head.

" Nothin', " she giggled. Her face fell against his shoulder and she hid her laughter there. Rick pinched her gently on the hip and made her giggle harder.

" C'mon. Tell me," he pleaded. She glanced up and gave in to his puppy pout and leaned over to whisper in his ear again.

" I made you say you wanted to touch my pussy. " She pulled back and started giggling again, and she didn't know why; perhaps out of nervousness, but when she looked up again, his face had grown stern. She blinked at him. " What's wrong? " she asked adorably, concern in her warm, fiery eyes.

" Sounds like you're projectin' your fantasies onto me, Michonne, " he whispered with a devilish smirk on his lips. " Tell me if that's what you want...and I'll do it. " Michonne felt her muscles tighten and clench, and she squeezed her thighs together. Rick tilted his head, leaning closer to her and she felt flustered.

" Touch me, " she chirped, her voice embarrassingly higher than usual. Rick shook his head, curls tumbling.

" Say it the way you made me say it, " he said gruffly, eyes narrowed.

" _Toucher ma chatte_ , " she murmured and Rick dipped his head lower, planting a sweeping kiss on her neck and brushing his lips along her jawline. He lifted his mouth slowly and kissed her ear and she bit her lip to keep from moaning. Caressing her thighs lazily, he snuck his hand under her skirt, and her knees went weak as she waited in shivering anticipation for his fingers to touch her there. He finally did, and her head fell back, her mouth falling open in a silent plea as he teased her with his feathery touches over her panties. It was the most courageous thing she had done in weeks; letting the only stranger she had ever been attracted to touch her in such an intimate way.

" Keep a straight face, " Rick said, his voice gravelly in her ear. " Don't forget we're in the back of a cab. I want him to think we're cuddlin'. " Michonne blinked, nearly laughing. She _had_ forgotten. Oh, but it was so hard to keep her eyes from rolling shut, to keep her head from lulling, and even harder not to moan as he massaged her sensitive little nub with two deft fingers over the fabric of her silk panties.

She was already so wet. She chewed on her lip so hard that it stung, another moan trying to escape, and she nearly died when Rick sucked her earlobe and pulled it with his teeth. She tightened her grip on his thigh, desperately seeking relief from his torturous affections. Her hips bucked as he slowly pulled her panties to the side and eased a finger inside of her. Her nails sank into his leg and a whimper nearly left her lips.

" You make a sound and I'll add another finger, " he grumbled in her ear, his finger slipping in and out of her, teasingly and agonizingly slow. God, he was hungry. She could feel his desire in the air around them.

She clenched her fist. This man was even sexier than she had imagined, and even sexier than he had been only ten minutes ago. What was she to do when he finally got her to his place? She shivered just thinking about it. She wanted to come already and she was surprised and almost angered by it. Michonne lifted her hand and rested it on his growing erection, teasing him back over his jeans. Feeling the size of him in her grasp nearly made her wet herself in violent orgasm right then, but she held on for dear life. " That's not fair, " Rick hissed in her ear, licking her earlobe once more. She shivered yet again before she could even reply.

" Yes, it is, " she whispered back. Rick smiled against her and slowly slipped another finger inside her dripping center and she tensed for a millisecond, relaxing again as he slowed his pace even more. She gritted her teeth.

" I told you if you made a sound, I'd add another finger. " His lips were still against her neck, kissing her gently, tenderly. " Shhh, " he cooed.

 _Easy for him to say. Fuck._ She closed her eyes, relishing in the thrusts of his thick, teasing fingers, growing wetter by the second.

" Kiss me, " Rick demanded almost weakly, his voice breaking with feeling, and Michonne didn't hesitate to lock her lips with his and slide her tongue into his mouth. She could feel his need for her in the heat of his kiss and she swooned all over again. Taking full advantage of the vulnerable moment, she smoothly unzipped his pants and reached inside the opening of his jeans and boxers to grasp him firmly in her hand. His mouth fell open, his lips still against hers, and she squeezed him with greedy purpose, gliding her hand up and down his impressive length and taming her sudden, and overwhelming, animalistic urges.

She rubbed her thumb over the swollen tip of him, his precum slick against her fingertip. And still, his movements were unrelenting, his rhythm steady on her flesh and inside of her for what felt like hours. Michonne was overcome; by the constant teasing of his lips and tongue on her neck, by his very presence, and by his size- knowing full well that once they got to his house, he would be buried deep inside of her soon and she could finally know what it was like to be with him the way she had envisioned; so absurdly and so long ago.

Suddenly the taxi came to a stop, and the driver cleared his throat loudly. Michonne froze, her eyes flying open, and she stifled a giggle, freeing her hand from Rick's pants as his fingers slipped from her. She choked on her laughter and opened her clutch, pulling out a few crisp bills to pay the driver.

" Hey, hey now, let me. Put that away, " Rick said, feigning offense as he zipped his pants and pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. He paid the driver and they fled the cab, dashing out into the warm summer night air, and the pair burst into a fit of violent laughter as the cab drove away, back towards the bustling city.

Michonne glanced up, admiring Rick's cozy little home and still giggling as he joined her on the sidewalk. She had never been one to be so giggly, her disposition usually stoic and even tempered, but she liked that she couldn't stop chuckling. He was having a positive effect on her. And nothing had much of an effect on her anymore. Rick wrapped his arm around her waist and led her to his doorstep, boots heavy and loud on the concrete.

" Do you live alone? " Michonne asked, wiping her eyes from her joyous laughter, saddened by the notion of Rick coming home to an empty, bleak house after a hard day's work.

" My eleven year old comes to stay with me every other weekend," he replied. " He lives with his mother. " Michonne placed her hand on her chest admiringly.

" Aw, you have a son?" she said, wondering how cute he was; how much he resembled his handsome father in likeness. Rick smiled and nodded, inserting his key into the lock and opening the door so that they could step inside his home. His living space was traditional, all earth tones and unfussy palettes and crisp, cut wood. Still life paintings accented the off-white walls and a brick fireplace stole all the attention in the room. A picture on the mantel caught her eye and she walked over to it, her heels clip-clopping on the bamboo flooring. She picked up the frame as Rick closed and locked the door behind them.

A smiling little boy with bright blue eyes and wavy dark brown hair peered back at her from the glass frame, his freckles followed by her eyes like connect-the-dots. He did resemble his father. " He's adorable, Rick. What's his name? " she asked.

" Carl, " he told her. She saw him through an opening from the living room into his kitchen. He pulled two bottles of beer from his refrigerator and joined her in front of the fireplace, casting his hat aside on the table and opening both bottles with his hands. He gave one to her and shoved the bottle caps into his pocket. " He's a real good kid, " he said, sighing and staring down at the picture with her. He gently touched the image of his son's face and took it from her, placing it back on the mantle with care.

" Of course he is, " she said. " His father is a good man. " Rick met her eyes as she turned to face him.

" Now, how do you know that? " he asked with a raised brow. " You don't know a thang about me, Michonne... Other than the awful way I dance and the kinda impressive size of my dick, " he joked, nearly her exact sentiment. She laughed, shaking her head at him.

" Yes, I do, Mr. Grimes... I know a lot about you. I know you're divorced. And I know you're happy about it, even though it makes you feel guilty that it brought you those feelings." Rick raised both of his eyebrows now, and she continued. " I know you love your son with everything you have, more than anyone in the world, and you'd do anything for him. Anything..." She studied his face and watched him. " I know you hate coming home to this empty house, but you think it's better than being unhappy in it with someone you no longer want to be with... I think you're a fighter and I know you're strong... I can just tell... And I have a good feeling you're an upright man, with morals and standards and a big heart. You have to be in order to be a good cop, and I can tell that you are one... "

Michonne paced ever so slightly, but she refused to take her eyes off of him. " I know that even though your job is hard and it takes it toll on you, you wouldn't trade it for any other career in the world. Not for status, or valor, or recognition. But because you love people and you want to help them. " Their eye contact had grown so intense that Rick was forced to look away. He peered down at his boots but not before she noticed the profound flushing of his cheeks.

" How'd you do that? " he murmured. " I don't think anyone has ever- goddamn. Did you decipher all of that while you stalked me? " he jested. " Or just from tonight? In this short amount of time we've known each other? " Michonne smiled at him and nodded proudly, wishing to touch him, to kiss him again, to console away that frown.

" It's a gift of mine, " she said. " Useful when it comes to my job. " She shifted, growing uncomfortable in her platform heels. She bent to take them off, beer still untouched in her grasp.

" May I try it with you? " Rick asked politely, watching her as he backed up to sit down on his plush sofa. She smiled harder, her pretty teeth flashing in the dimness.

" Be my guest, " she said, walking over to join him. " Scoot over. " Rick gave her a little more room and she sat down next to him, settling against the pillows. He then cleared his throat and began.

" Hm, let's see... You're single, I'm guessin', though I can't begin to understand or imagine how that's even possible. " She grinned again. " You're fun to be around. I can tell. I bet everyone likes you, but I bet you don't keep the company of a whole lot of friends. You seem wary of everyone else around you. And alert. Guarded. But you can relax when you meet someone you can trust... And I'm your man when it comes to that, so you don't have to worry about me... You're classy, and smart, and I'm almost positive you've got a naughty side, inside and outside the bedroom. I can see that too... I see it in those purdy brown eyes o' yours. " Michonne giggled. He was definitely right about that, and surprisingly correct about everything else as well. " And you're strong. As hell. What you do for a livin' requires a lotta strength, but you deal with it well and you don't let it get to you... Probably have an outlet to get all your frustrations out in some way... And if you aren't already a mother, you seem like you want to be one. "

It was her turn to be in stunned silence. This man was smart; that she knew, but damn, she wasn't the only one with a keen sense of intuition. Michonne found, yet again, something else to be attracted to. She felt his eyes on her and she met his piercing gaze. " How'd I do? " he asked.

" Perfect, " she said quietly, " I guess we both have that gift. " Rick's phone suddenly rang in his pocket and he pulled his eyes away to answer it quickly.

" Hello?...Yes, this is he... Yeah, I asked to be notified on his progress... Alright... Mmhmm... He's stable? Shit-I mean, that's amazin' ... Okay... Okay, thank you... Yes... Thank you... Goodnight." He pressed the 'end' button on the little screen and sighed a heavy exhale of relief.

" Everything okay? " Michonne inquired. He looked willing to speak but hesitant for a fraction of a second, looking up at her bashfully. He was seeking her gaze for comfort and she knew that he was about to confide in her. The look in his eyes was a little scary.

" I shot someone while I was on duty today, " he blurted, as if he had been dying to tell someone for hours. She didn't know what to say.

" Wow... you were right; you really did have a rough day... I'm sorry," she murmured after a while, reaching down and interlocking her fingers with his in an attempt to comfort him if her words did not suffice. And it worked. His heavy heart took off on a wild, fluttering ride into his palm. She felt every pulse. Michonne swallowed hard. He stroked her hand with his thumb.

" He's stable now, they said. Maybe... maybe he's gonna be alright, " he breathed. Michonne nodded and Rick lifted his beer in his free hand, sighing aloud again. " Here's to our rewarding careers," he said sarcastically, clinking his bottle with hers. She popped the cap off and took a long swig of the cold hops, rolling the liquid around in her mouth and Rick drank quietly beside her. " You wanna tell me about how shitty your day was? " he asked. Michonne shook her head fervently.

" No. I don't even want to think about it, " she replied. " I don't want to think about anything negative at all. " Her honesty was fitting. Rick squeezed her hand and their eyes met again, the tension returning and the air ignited between them...

 **Rick's POV**

Before Rick knew what was happening, he was all over her, Michonne's lithe body pressed against his, her breasts against his chest, their faces mashed together in frenzied passion. They had both set their beers aside as quickly as possible, reaching for each other greedily, the both of them disregarding their need to breathe in order to get a taste of each other again. She moaned, and Rick ran his tongue over her plump, perfect bottom lip. He could hear his stubble scratching her repeatedly but she didn't seem to care at all. She moaned quietly from the pain, and it lit a fire in him.

His lips closed over hers hungrily and he groaned, weaving his fingers into her soft dreadlocks for the very first time, his other hand around her waist. Every part of her was more stunning than the last. He stroked her skin as he pulled back to look at her, gasping for air. She caught her breath and opened her eyes slowly. They were seductive eyes, sexy and captivating, lids heavy with arousal. She was absolutely beautiful. His heart caught in his throat.

" What? " she asked, smiling shyly, her breaths coming out in sighs. She touched his face. " What's wrong? "

" Are we... okay? Do you want to do this? " He wasn't asking out of hesitation, or doubt that he didn't want this himself. He hoped she realized that he was checking up on her, being polite, and that he was concerned for some untold reason, and waiting for her reassurance. And she gave it.

" You're sweet, " she purred. " Yes... Yes. " And his lips were on hers again instantly.

Rick pulled her closer and she caressed his stubbled face, her hands finding their way into his smooth locs of hair. When his tongue slipped past her lips again, she sucked on it thoroughly, and he nearly fell apart in her hands, a whimper fleeing him and hiding in her dulcet mouth. His hands stroked her every inch of skin, caressing her spine, trailing down to her ass, and when he reached it, he cupped it zealously, moaning with hunger and now practically on top of her as she nestled back against his throw pillows. Rick settled between her thighs, breaking away from their kiss to peer down at her and admire her once more. She lay breathless.

" Take me to your room, " she murmured and Rick wouldn't make her ask twice. He didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her- one behind her back and the other behind her silky legs. He lifted her from the couch with ease and stood, carrying her away swiftly up the staircase and down the hallway to his master suite, listening to her delightful giggle all the way.

 _She's so_ beautiful, he thought, _is she real? Am I still dreaming?_

If he was, he wasn't ever going to wake up.

Rick made it to his room faster than he ever had, kicking his door open with his booted foot and laying Michonne down on his unmade bed. He thought of how lonely this very bed was a mere twenty-four hours ago, now occupied by this slender, sweet woman in the midst of undress. He watched as she slowly unzipped her leather skirt and Rick tugged it down her legs, admiring the golden silk panties she wore. The spot of moisture on them was evidence of her arousal and their heated headstart in the cab.

He swept her locs over her shoulder with care and sat down on the edge of the bed beside her, kissing her neck as he unzipped her top from behind. Her breaths and groans came more quickly as she eased herself out of the orange top, arching her back and tossing her hair, her breasts now on full display, her nipples hardening under his hungry gaze. He leaned closer, inhaling her sweet scent, and his mouth watered as he nibbled her earlobe and cupped one perfect breast in his hand. Her unbelievably soft flesh filled his palm and warmed his soul. He felt as though he had been granted a marvelous privilege- to chance to see her body naked and vulnerable and aroused. She squirmed for him, sighing heavily, and Rick knew it was because she didn't want to wait any longer; that she needed him soon and just as badly as he needed her. Knowing so set him ablaze, inside and out, and a part of him long forgotten resurfaced again.

Rick stood and Michonne opened her big brown eyes, peering up at him as he pulled his white shirt over his head and discarded it onto the floor. With a slightly trembling hand, Rick jerked his backup revolver from the holster on his jeans and set it down on the nightstand, watching Michonne eye it with sexy curiosity. And then, her eyes were on him. They scanned him hungrily and she reached out to touch him, her long fingers enticing, but somehow, he managed patience, and he stepped back and away from her touch, thrilling confidence sweeping over him.

" Get on your knees, " he growled, smirking coyly. " C'mon. " Michonne heeded his request without resistance, her eyes clouding with lust. He could tell that she liked this side of him, dominant and demanding and devilishly daunting, and it was clear that it was an unexpected surprise. She rose to meet him, kneeling at the edge of his bed and staring up at him. " Unbuckle my belt, " he barked, his tone low, his arms at his side, and she did, her hands shaking as he stared, watching her reach down with fumbling hands to pull the tip from the belt loop and release the tongue to undo the buckle. " Now the jeans. "

Michonne undid the button of his jeans and slid his zipper down slowly, the grinding sound of the metal teeth filling the quiet bedroom. Rick toed off his cowboy boots eagerly, hooking his thumbs into his pants and boxers and pulling them down with a yank. He freed himself, his cock bobbing, rigid and rock hard and at attention for her. She licked her lips in anticipation, a faint moan leaving her mouth as she admired his size in full splendor, her lust obviously intensifying and dizzying her. He lifted his hand and ran a finger along her jaw, his thumb tracing over her plump, soft lips. Her eyes closed at the heated contact and she reached for him, to wrap her arms around his neck as he stepped out of his pants and kicked them aside.

Rick grabbed her slender waist, thumbs stroking her velvety hips, and he pulled her against his body roughly, moaning now that they were skin to skin. He forced his tongue into her mouth and dug his fingers into her, and she swooned at his aggression, her body going slack as desire and submission took over her.

She didn't seem like the type of woman who let a man take charge on the first night, but she had changed her mind entirely for Rick. He knew that if she had been eyeing him for months, then she had imagined their first time together countless times; how good they might be at pleasing each other, how his body might look when he was naked and thrusting into her, how his blue eyes and pink lips would look hovering over her as she let him devour her... And Rick knew he had to satisfy her every whim if he wanted to keep her near- and he did, more than anything.

After weeks of admiring from afar, living as strangers, here they were, in his bed, and he could tell that her cheeks were warm beneath his observant, lusty gaze. Her fantasy was coming to life before their very eyes.

Rick lifted her and she was once again in obvious surprise at the strength of his embrace. He turned them both around and sat down on the end of the bed and she knelt, straddling him and positioning herself over him until she seemed comfortable.

When they kissed again, it was feverish and desperate and full of tongue and he couldn't wait a second longer, dying to be inside of her, to fill her, to know what it would be like to please her fully.

" Do you have any condoms? " she asked suddenly, breathless against his mouth and licking his bottom lip. He groaned.

" Fuck...I don't. I don't keep them around. " She bit down on his lip and he groaned again, louder this time.

" Oh, well... Fuck it, " she sighed, slipping her tongue into his mouth.

" Are you sure? " he murmured, distracted by her greedy kisses.

" Yes, " she moaned. " Fuck me. " Those words lit untold, unknown fires deep inside of him, his loins tightening, aching. He hadn't noticed her panties were still on and he reached down, caressing her over the fabric with urgency.

" I'll buy you a new pair, " he said as he clutched them between and beneath his slight-edged fingernails and ripped them from her body at the elastic seam with fisted hands, throwing them aside and cupping her perfect ass. " You ready? " he asked, his voice suddenly shaky.

" Mmm...yes, " she purred. " More than you know. " And by the feel of her wetness against him, he doubted that...

 **Michonne's POV**

They said nothing else, knowing what was about to happen. Their hearts raced in tandem, the anticipation nearly making them drool. Their craving for each other dizzyied them. They watched each others faces as she lowered herself onto his thick length with delicious slowness.

Their fate was sealed in that moment... but they were too absorbed in each other to notice.

Michonne threw her head back and sighed as their bodies joined. He was bigger than she had expected, growing even more inside her, and he was so thick, it hurt, but the pain felt so spectacularly good, she almost cried out. She bit her lip, and just when she thought she couldn't take another centimeter of him, her body accepted him completely, and she moaned loudly, taking every inch of him to the hilt. She gasped as he plunged deeply into her, marveling at how full she felt- how complete.

Their lips parted as words abandoned them entirely, only groans of delight escaping, and their mouths met hungrily, their tongues thrashing against each other. Michonne's hands found their way back into the thick ringlets at his nape again, her long, deft fingers seeking what now felt like their rightful place. Rick's eyes rolled shut and she caressed his scalp, sucking his full bottom lip and nipping it roughly with her teeth. She coaxed a low growl from him.

Timidly, she began to move, riding him slowly, and she could tell that Rick was already lost in her spell. She smiled and ran a thumb along the bruise of his faint black eye, bringing her lips to the slight injury and kissing it softly. He opened his eyes again, holding her gaze and wrapping his arms around her, his fingers splayed across her lower back.

His deep ocean eyes watched her every movement with reverence and fascination. She accidentally lost herself in his gaze, his pupils so large in the low light that they looked like two entracing black holes, surrounded by pools of cerulean blue, sucking her in, dragging her away into a reality where only the two of them existed.

He bit down on his bottom lip, growling possessively, his hands moving to cup her ass greedily in strong, eager hands. She quivered as she rode him, dipping her head to place a gentle kiss on his lips again. It deepened quickly, growing sloppy and more desperate, full of need; unbridled tongue, clashing teeth and sweet, sticky saliva. Their noses bumped, sighs and gasps of contentment from their joined mouths echoing through his silent home, filling it with sounds of life again. She saw his eyes mist.

Michonne rested her head on Rick's shoulder. Her eyes rolled shut and her mouth fell open with a moan and whimper of near surrender. She grasped at everything, at anything, at all she could manage; his body, his powder blue comforter, his thick, curly hair- all to keep from succumbing to the overwhelming sensations rushing over her body in slow, delightful waves. It had been so long since she had taken a man like this. And it had never felt more right.

Her fingernails sank into his flesh and he groaned, touching her everywhere he could, feathery brushes of his rough fingers sending noticeable shivers down her back and goosebumps down her arms. His grasp settled on her hips, digging into her and aiding her quivering, rolling hips as rode him frantically.

Michonne's eyes fluttered open and she lifted her head, raising her shaking hands to thread her fingers through his curls again. She couldn't stop touching him there. She leaned down to kiss him, open mouthed and full of lazy, warm tongue. She couldn't get enough of him. It had been so long since anyone had made her feel such a way. Her heart nearly burst with pleasure. Rick kissed her back hungrily, only breaking their kiss to turn his attention to her breasts, ignored for only a while. They bounced gently in his face, begging for his affection. He admired them with ravenous eyes, leaning to flick his tongue over her nipples, one at a time, back and forth, a teasing game that made her desperate for more. A little shriek escaped her. Her knotted little peaks hardened further beneath his saliva-covered tongue and he gave them his undivided attention. She moaned some more, grinding over him roughly and pulling his curls as he slid in and out of her again and again in a slippery, rushed rhythm.

Rick lifted her suddenly and she felt like she was afloat, hovering in the air above his unkempt bed, above the sheets that had smelled of him and now smelled of her. Her eyes fluttered open and she gasped, feeling whimsied and as light as a feather. He wrapped his arms around her and turned over so that he was positioned on top of her, all the while still buried deep within her. He crawled further onto his bed, towards the headboard and many pillows, Michonne's slender body locked around his, legs fastened like a bow about the small of his back. She settled against the pillows, pillows that smelled of him too, scents more intense the deeper she nestled, and she gasped when he wasted no time finding his rhythm again.

" Fuck, " he groaned, digging his hips into her as he moved, as hard as he could in slow, forceful thrusts that rocked the bed against the wall, wood posts rapping again and again. " God, _yes. I - "_ , he choked. " Oh, Mi-chon-. " He couldn't finished a single sentence. His calloused hands and honest eyes were bashful on her... but his hips were not as shy. Gentler hands had never been on her body before. Rick had such a tenderness to his touch, down to his overworked fingertips, and it was such a contrast to his rapacious hips and ravishing lips and hot, calloused skin. His sweet mouth stayed parted as he whimpered, tongue glinting in pale cerulean moonlight, every piece of him cherishing the way his shaft was hugged and kissed. The almost neglected fire burned cold and intense and desperate in his beautiful blue eyes, and it intimidated Michonne like nothing else, but she was enthralled by it. She pulled him closer, her body opening in ways it had not for anyone. Her core was trembling. And his flesh was so remarkably heated that it was comforting- a furnace to curl up next to and drift away. Rick sucked at every inch of her like she was fruit, and she lost the ability to breathe normally. She exhaled sigh after contented sigh. And Rick's restless and laudable efforts to quench her thirsts made her whole being swell with profound ache.

He was a reserved man, with a demanding, dominant side that he could not hide- one she knew ought not be reckoned with- but above all, he had a compassionate facet of sweetness mixed in warmly with everything else, and Michonne knew that she had developed this silly crush for a reason. She was wrapped around the sexy, lean body and the surprisingly thick cock of a brave and generous man, one who had not shown an ounce of malice or unfriendliness towards her or anyone else, though his life seemed to hand him plenty of excuses to be malcontent.

She was being bad- and very reckless- but this act, with him, had been precisely what she needed, and it didn't matter if what she was doing was taboo, or too imprudent, or too hedonistic; it- _him-_ this felt right.

Rick was easy to talk to, and more than easy to look at, and he had been so charming, and so kind to her when no other man had truly done the same for years. Michonne knew that type of disrespect far too well. She had been objectified and mistreated by the opposite sex more often than not since she became a single woman. Rick was the only man she had given the time of day, or the opportunity to impress her... and impress is indeed what he did. So Michonne let him have something no man had known the pleasure of in years: the gift of her, and her marvelous body.

The reasons why Michonne had been crushing on Rick in the first place were showcased plainly before her eyes as they made love. Her intuition never failed her, not even with strangers through a television screen. Rick was different. She wasn't in the arms of a heartless, womanizing bachelor, or a citizen-killing, hatred-filled police officer; she could see it in the beautiful blue windows to his warm soul- she was in the arms of a remarkably tenderhearted human. A father. A fellow lonely heart.

A good man. One polite enough to ask her what she wanted before giving anything. One who was gentlemanly and respectful to her, a stranger, even during the intimate act of dancing. One who became turned on just by watching the pleasure he gave. Michonne knew by the way he was gazing down at her- staring so deeply into her eyes that she grew timid; she was not in the midst of a typical one night stand. This was something else. This was something different.

Rick seemed to read her, and he read her well. Her every reflex and reverberation, with never-ending enthusiasm, was carried out and carried on however she wanted, until he made her sing for him. And when Michonne got what she needed, her responses pleased him noticeably. It encouraged him further, and the more she enjoyed herself, the more impassioned he became, his pace increased, his cock harder. She asked for more and he gave it. His lustful rage made him growl aggressively and slam powerfully into her with urgent repetition and she was positive right then and there, that Rick had needed this just as much as she did, though he kept his focus on her fully and deemed himself unimportant, all for her immense gratification. And the more he concentrated on her, the more stiff his dick grew inside her sugary, appreciative walls.

And Michonne loved every bit of his red-blooded, untiring hunger. She had craved the pent up frustration of a man like him all her life and now that she was on the receiving end of it, he was almost too much for her. She could feel herself being delightfully stretched, her body acclamation addictive. He quickened his speed again, pounding into her vigorously and rocking his bed even harder, eyes trained on her bouncing breasts and enthused face. He stared and touched like no one else, almost excessively, and Michonne invited it all.

She silently urged his lips to suck at her nipple, and he received his hint in no time at all. He lowered his mouth and suckled softly. Pleasure turned numb and constant, driving her wild and fueling her fire. Rick shifted his weight to one hand and reached between their melding bodies with the other to find her clit swollen and wet and shuddering. He moved his lips to hers and found her pouting, and he seized her bottom lip with his teeth and sucked it into his mouth the way he had with her nipple, massaging her swollen little bundle of ultrasensitive cells with two nimble fingers and peppering her moaning mouth with kisses. She gasped repeatedly.

" Mmm, Rick, " Michonne groaned in his ear, her breath rustling his hair. " _Rick_. " He hastened his pace a bit more, licking her neck and she moaned his name again, the only word she could manage. She thought she could feel shame over this; doing something that most people thought seemed like a hookup, something Michonne had never done before. But this was something else entirely... something more.

There was something about the way Rick looked at her- into her- something about how good it felt to fuse and gratify with him. It was necessary. Her body longed for and liked him all. She writhed and waned and bloomed for him. It was a desire to share the most basic of urges with someone she felt something unimaginable for, in a world full of people she had felt disconnected from for decades.

Being with Rick in the moment, and feeling what she felt so swiftly, was chemical, and mature, and it blew her mind to pieces, scattered like buckshot in a dizzy disarray. She knew she would want more; more of him, more of this, in every way. This was something more. And she would have been a fool to think otherwise. His deep sea cerulean eyes clarified that for her every time he stared and kissed her deeply into a whimpering fit.

Rick did not divide his time between breathing and kissing when he made love, she soon delightfully discovered. He kissed her every second. She was his air. Her tongue was sustenance. His kisses were messy and sensual, and she tried to contain what he was making her feel. His muscles rippled in the wake of his plummeting frenzy, sweat pooling on his hot skin. He growled like an animal, his cock hardening inside her until it hurt, and something churned deep inside her tummy. Were those _butterflies_? He was giving her _butterflies_.

She cursed again loudly, and it only encouraged him. He thrusted into her harder, with an unabashed desperation, and it made her cry some more, as he added the wet notes of smooches down her chest and up her neck and softly in her ears. Michonne watched a layer of goosebumps spread over his tanned skin, and she felt his cock harden inside her in a way that only made her feel fuller. Her eyes fell closed and her lips pouted. She was creaming, covering him in her essence as he continued his torturous rhythm, willing her out of her mind and body in a state of rapture she hadn't felt in far too long.

She wanted this to last forever with him, and she tried to hold on with all her strength, but his feverish lips closed over a spot on her neck so sensitive that she started to shiver. He bit her there, sucking her flesh and leaving love bites on her skin. " Oh... _yes_ ," she choked, astonished at how much she liked what he was doing to her. Her whimpers grew shaky.

She loved how possessive he was, claiming her with his furious mouth and keen tongue and throbbing, plunging cock. She loved his zealous, unexpected aggression and the consequences that came with it. The thought of being sore from him the next day nearly tipped her over the edge. He fucked with a confidence she had not anticipated, and he was so sure of himself, the arduous grunts from his lips warm against her skin, his every fiber unhesitant and beyond anxious to please. His relentless strokes hit her every sweet spot again and again and she couldn't stop moaning if it would save her life; it was so deliciously good. Michonne didn't know if she could take it, feeling herself grow wetter around him, the sounds of their bodies meeting filling his room with the music of their lovemaking. She was so close, she could taste it ...

" Cum for me, Michonne, " he whispered in her ear, worshipping her body with his hands and his lips and his eyes in a way that no one else had, and it was just what she needed- just what she wanted to hear, since the first time he said her name outside the bar. It was music to her ears- and down to her soul. She had definitely needed him.

She guided his face to hers and kissed him rigorously, her tongue invading his hot mouth and a deep, throaty groan escaping her lips. His thrusts quickened, his weight sturdy on one hand, the other working tirelessly, and the moving of his fingers was wet and unrelenting on her clitoris. He sent her over the edge and violently released her tensions at last.

" Oh...G-God!. _.. Rick. Yes! "_ she gasped as she shattered, the zenith of her pleasure rattling her in the most unfathomable way. His name scratched and warmed her throat on the way out, leaving her drunk with appreciation. Coming undone, she mewled against his lips, squeezing her eyes shut as her orgasm shuddered through her in exquisite, trickling waves, from deep in her center, down to her curling toes and back up again, shooting up her spine and unraveling her brain, rocking her into a blissful buzz full of whimpering and staggering euphoria.

Rick propped up on his elbow and reached down to touch her face, still moving inside her and he ran his thumb over her parted lips, watching as she tightened around him repeatedly and rode out her climax with circling hips. She opened her mouth and flicked her tongue across his fingertip, taking his thumb into her wanton mouth and sucking it as she rode the last wave of her orgasm with crooning moans.

She could feel him harden further inside her and she opened her eyes, seeing his close, and by the look on his face, she knew he had been holding on, waiting for her release before he enjoyed his own. Michonne moved her hands from his hair, reaching down his back to cup his ass in her hands. She pushed him deeper inside her, guiding him where he wanted to be, and she moaned into his ear, encouraging him as his thrusts quickened with urgent need. " Cum inside me, Rick, " she whispered, and she knew that it was naughty, and risky, and the craziest thing she had probably ever said or done, but something deep down inside her _needed_ every possible part of that profound and elemental craving for sex that humans longed for and shared with one another. And the way his eyes lit up only sealed it for her.

She had never felt such a supreme and all-consuming yearning for one man's seed; to be filled with it, to drip with it. She had to listen to her heart; to her desires. If she had learned anything in this test called life, it was that. And, just to press her sensitive buttons a little more, as if he had been waiting for her permission to even want it, Michonne felt a strong and telltale shudder race down Rick's spine. He bit her neck as softly as he could manage and licked her with a trembling tongue and she knew he was going to let go; she could feel it. It stunningly drove her to climax again, spinning her on a ride of pain and sharp, long pleasure on the tail end of his stony shaft slamming in and gliding urgently, and how could she deny herself the things she had ached for when Rick gave them to her so openly and willingly- so masterfully? She slid her tongue into his sweet mouth, kissing him passionately, and she sealed his fate as well with that kiss.

His hips bucked and he stiffened, his mouth falling open against hers and the top of his head falling back. No sound left his lips as he came, hard and forcefully, his pulsing, throbbing length hungry for the deepest place within her to leave his hot offerings. His nails sank into her buttock where his hand had rested and he plowed into her with an unmatched greed, spurting warm and plentiful in her depths. A low, guttural groan bubbled from his throat at last and he buried his face in her neck, moaning her name softly and repeatedly- like he couldn't believe his luck, like he had been waiting an eternity to whisper it to her- as he filled her up with his release. He slowed the pace of his trembling thrusts and emptied himself to completion deep inside her, coming down gradually and murmuring unintelligible praise against her sweaty skin between heated pecks of kisses.

Rick's knees buckled and he fell, turning over all at once and carrying Michonne with him to lay on top of his sweaty body. They were both absolutely breathless, and Michonne curled up against him as they tried to recover together, winding down from their shared high, their bodies sticky with perspiration and pressed together. She lifted her head to kiss him, propping herself up on his chest and tickling the soft hair that grew sparsely there. He stroked her skin and raised his other arm above his head as he relaxed against his pillows, his curls clumped together and sticking to his forehead.

" Well...damn. Was it good for you too?, " he said, smiling crookedly and they burst into a fit of laughter at his cliché question.

" What? Are you suprised? " Michonne asked, watching his handsome face as he recovered from his laughter, his colorful eyes twinkling. Rick shook his head and eyed her bashfully.

" No... I just...I knew when I met you tonight you were special...Different. And like I said, I've never done somethin' like this with anyone before but... I'm really glad I did. I'm real glad we met, Michonne. " Her stomach fluttered madly.

 _Damn, he's sweet,_ she thought, meeting his intense stare and they were lost in each other's gaze for a long moment again. Gosh, sex made human act in such a peculiar, yet natural way. Her whole body was fluttering. Michonne touched his face and kissed him sweetly, wondering what it was that she was feeling in her heart, knowing full well that this wouldn't be the last time she saw him. He kissed her back, moaning into her mouth and caressing her smooth, soft bottom. She pulled back with a sigh and smiled down at him, watching his cheeks turn red. He was dazed by her lips. Knowing the effect she had on him already was beyond arousing. She would have to escape those intense looks for a bit .

" Where's your bathroom?, " she murmured, anxious to clean herself up.

" Right through that door, " he said, pointing to the far side of the room with his chin. She hadn't even noticed his bedroom at all and she giggled, thinking of how preoccupied she was with fucking him when he had carried her off to his bed. The bookcase near his walk-in closet was stuffed full of knowledge and mysterious tales, colorful books dog-eared and bookmarked, one atop the surface and open wide. She grew curious, but in the grand scheme of things the decor, as nice as it was, didn't matter... She had, without a doubt, just had the best sex she had experienced in years- scratch that- perhaps in her life. And with a stranger nonetheless.

But she didn't want it to stay that way for long.

 **Rick's POV**

Rick watched Michonne leave, her perfect round ass easy to admire and hard to ignore in all its beauty as she crossed his room and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind her. He stood up from his bed, wondering if she wanted privacy. Her smile and moan and laugh and body was stuck in his head like a delightful earworm. Pulling a pair of boxers from his dresser drawer, he slipped them on and left to get a glass of water, his head already aching from the whiskey. His home seemed livelier, as if it knew that company, a miracle in his home, was present.

Even from across the house and on the lower level, Rick could hear his cellphone ringing cheerfully. He downed his cold glass of water quickly and ran back upstairs, rushing into his bedroom and retrieving his discarded jeans from their resting place on the floor. He pulled his phone from the pocket and answered it.

" Hello? "

" Mr. Grimes? " The doctor from the hospital.

" Yes? " he replied. _Oh no._ His warm feelings of content after his fun with Michonne diminished abruptly and crippling guilt replaced it.

" I know it's quite late but I wanted to call and let you know the patient you asked to be notified about has just expired." The lack of emotion in the doctor's voice was astonishing. Rick was speechless. He looked down at his feet, clenching his fist, and his eyes filled with tears. " Mr. Grimes? Are you still there? "

" I thought he was stable?, " Rick croaked. " You said he was in stable condition. "

" The condition of the patient can change rapidly, Mr. Grimes. He took a turn for the worse. There was too much trauma to the brain. He hemorrhaged and we couldn't stop the death of brain tissue. The patient had a severe stroke and we could not revive him. " Rick was boiling with rage; with defeat. He wanted to scream; to punch something, to weep himself immovable.

" Thanks for letting me know, " he managed to mumble. " Goodbye. " He hung up and threw the phone with all his might, shattering it against the wall opposite of him. His knees grew slack and he somehow found the edge of his bed through clouded eyes, crumbling under the weight of his guilt. He heard Michonne rush from the bathroom and scurry over to him.

" Rick? " she said softly, her sweet voice alone bringing him to weeping tears. " Is everything alright? " Her presence soothed him a bit, calming a few frazzled nerves and he turned to face her.

" He's dead, " he blurted in a hoarse murmur, his eyes wide when he looked up at her. " I killed him. " She rushed towards him, not needing an explanation, and she climbed onto his bed and wrapped her arms around him. He weakened at her warm contact, turning into her embrace and burying his face against her bosom, embarrased as more tears burned their way into his eyes. He listened to her heartbeat, containing his cries as best as he could and failing miserably.

As he broke down, Michonne ran her fingers through his hair, kissing his curls and temple and caressing his trembling body. She quieted him with little coos and pulled him into bed, covering his toned, tired frame with the sheets and lulling him to sleep with gentle voice. He sobbed into her skin, her comfort incomparable to anything else that had brought him a semblance of relief in the recent months. But her lovemaking had sustained his battered heart. He released every drop of sorrow he had accumulated in the past year and drifted into heavy slumber in her arms, her heartbeat his soothing lullaby...

•••

Rick awoke early the next morning, his throat dry, his head pounding, and the most perfect, supple body pressed against his. His eyes widened when he realized that she had only gotten prettier. He admired Michonne's nakedness with a lazy smile, her dark skin a striking constract against his white and pale blue sheets. Michonne stirred with a moan as she awakened and opened her eyes slowly, smiling up at him, and her face made him warm all over. She stretched and moaned again, sitting up and glancing around him at the clock on his nightstand. Her illuminated brown eyes broadened.

" Shit, shit, shit! " she exclaimed, throwing back the sheets and hurrying from his bed. He groaned, a frown appearing and deepening in severity. He could have laid there forever with her.

" What's wrong? " he asked, watching her rummage through his closet uninvited and he laughed, wondering what she might be doing. His heart leapt at the thought of her stealing a piece of his clothing and wearing it for the day; getting her scent trapped in the stitches.

" Andrea and I have to work on an appeal for a case I lost yesterday, " she explained, finding a white button down linen shirt of his and throwing it on over her arms and shoulders quickly. She retrieved her skirt from its discarded place on the floor and slipped in on with a shimmy of her hips, rushing to a mirror near his closet again to glance at her reflection. She smoothed her locs, throwing them over her shoulder and turning to leave. Rick rose from his bed quickly, following after her as she ran swiftly down the staircase and into the living room.

She bent to pick up her heels, pulling them on and opening her purse to take out her cellphone. " Five missed calls? Damn, Andrea, let a girl live, " she mumbled. She pressed down on the screen and lifted the phone to her ear. Rick leaned back against the wall next to fireplace and watched her. " Don't start with me, " Michonne said instantly. " I'm fine. Come pick me up. " She turned to Rick. " What's your address, hun? " she asked. His heart jumped.

 _She called me 'hun',_ he thought blushing, smiling at her as he relayed his address. She told her friend, laughing and looking up at Rick as he stood there, drinking in her features: her ravishing face, her heavenly lips, her devastating scowl as she listened into the phone. The past night was on replay in the same way the song they danced to was. " Wow, she lives three blocks from here, " Michonne told him, smiling and walking about the living area. " I've been to her place a hundred times; I didn't even notice... " She turned her attention back to the phone at her ear. " 'Kay, I'll be ready. " She hung up, stuffing her phone into her purse. " She's gonna come pick me up... Shit," she said. " I didn't get to brush my teeth." She walked over to Rick's dining room table, grabbing an apple from the wooden fruit bowl and taking a big bite. " I'm gonna walk down the road to meet her, okay? I'm late enough as it is," she told him as she approached, hypnotic hips swaying as she strutted closer.

Rick was instantly saddened by the thought of her leaving, thinking of the immense comfort she had brought him, how she calmed him, how perfect they were together last night when they made love for the first time. How easy it was to speak to her with no worry of being judged. He missed her and she hadn't even left yet.

" How will I-, " he began, and Michonne pulled his face down to kiss him, lingering, and he tasted the sweetness of her apple on her lips. She took something from her purse and slipped it into his hand.

" Call me," she said against his mouth, pulling back to stare into his eyes. " Whenever. For whatever reason. Business or pleasure. " She winked, grinning, and then she softened. " And if you need to talk to someone about your day... I'm a good shoulder to cry on, I promise. " Rick smiled down at her, craving her kiss again already.

A horn honked outside and his heart sank. Michonne planted another sweet kiss on his lips and put her apple in his hand, turning to leave. " See ya later, Rick," she said over her shoulder, a knowing smile on her pouty lips.

" See ya, Michonne, " he called, and with a slam of his front door, she was gone, and both Rick and his house missed her instantaneously as he stood in the quiet of his once again lonely home.

He glanced down at his hands, the apple in one, a business card in the other.

 _Michonne Walker_

 _Attorney At Law_

Criminal Defense Dept.

 _Atlanta, Georgia_

 _404- 221- 2016_

He smiled, lifting the bright red apple to his mouth and examining her perfect bite. He took one of his own, the juices running down his chin and reminding him of the taste on her lips before she left.

She was perfect. And he was going to see her again.

For the first time in a long time, he had a bit of hope; confident about what the future held for him, no matter what mystery lay ahead for the rest of his no doubt difficult summer to come.

He chewed his bite of the apple, his mouth watering, his thoughts on Michonne in all her flawless beauty, both inside and out.

 _This is good_ , he thought.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I cannot believe a Rihanna song prompted this story but I am so glad it did. This was going to be a one-shot but, as demanded, it shall be a full length fic. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Let me know your thoughts and thank you for reading!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Rick**_

 **Saturday**

 **10:15AM**

" _Michonne. "_

Rick exhaled her name like a prayer in a hushed, rushed whisper; a secret for her ears only. He opened his eyes and watched her diligently, her deep brown skin shimmering as she moved and watched him back. She looked angelic as she sat up straight, her endless locs raining down around her face and settling in flawless array about her sculpted cheekbones. She placed her long arms over her head, crossing them and arching her back slightly. She was statuesque somehow even in movement. Her hips circled dangerously. Rising and falling over his length, she rode him, a seductive dance of rhythmic perfection. And Rick was utterly enchanted, his eyes falling closed, lips parting and breathing praise.

He reached out longingly. His fingers traced a path of heat along her taut, flat stomach, and his eyes followed the trail he blazed with heated touch and closed slowly again. He was lost in her trance, her presence driving him wild and comforting him all at once. His heart began to sing. It left him drunk with pleasure- to know that she affected him so inordinately, just hours after meeting him. He moaned, and her name tasted sugary on his tongue when he breathed it again... but she slowed her pace, torturing him until he was no longer inside of her, and his yearning for her made him choke and reach out in achy desperation.

" Rick, " a voice called out to him, and it was not Michonne's honeyed, tempting voice; it was one that annoyed him lately, a nuisance of a sound. He cringed, his lust and contentment washed away abruptly and replaced with exasperation. " Rick! " His eyes flew open.

 _Shit,_ he thought, staring up at the white patterned ceiling above his bed, _it was a dream. A really vivid dream... Mmm... Michonne._ He licked his lips and rubbed the sleep from his heavy-lidded eyes, waiting for his vision to clear.

The very thought of Michonne made him feel tipsy and warm, like the sweetest, thickest highest quality top shelf liquor, just like his dream had. He could almost feel her there with him, the essence of her soul, the stardust of her laughter, the light of her smile, remnants of her still there in his bed with him in fractions. She had left trickles of her aura throughout his dreary home and it now stood more beautiful than ever before from merely her presence. And though he had only just met her, the dream he had had felt eerily familiar somehow.

He wondered if it were possible to have had that dream before- before meeting her. It seemed like an illogical notion. He smiled for a bit, thinking of her giggles and the musical sounds of her pleasure, like a symphony of angels, until finally his sight cleared and he saw a face hovering over him that he did not want to see. The face did not belong to Michonne, and he was disheartened greatly.

It belonged to Jessie Anderson, his former, and very short-term, girlfriend. Rick sat up hastily, bewildered by her intrusive attendance at his bedside. A hot flush of color raced across the expanse of his skin when he realized that he was extremely aroused from his dream about Michonne.

" What the- hell are you doin' here?! " he asked, sitting back against the headboard and regarding her with disdain. The sound of its wood striking the wall brought back pleasant memories. " How'd you get into my house? " Rick focused on the unfortunate occurrences taking place before his sleepy eyes rather than the ones he would prefer to see. Jessie's gaze was wide with bewilderment of her own in response to his words, and her blue eyes filled with tears as she searched for an adequate reply. Rick grimaced. " Oh, God, don't start your cryin'. Jesus Christ, Jessie... Please. " He sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger and shaking his head. He didn't need the inconvenience of her guilt trip, or her attempts at gaining sympathy. He had had enough of that; feeling sorry for her and answering her phone calls out of pity. It wasn't fair to either of them and he couldn't do it anymore.

" I got your key from Lori, " Jessie sniffed when she could manage, her face in a dejected frown. She tucked a wispy trendil of highlighted blonde hair behind her ear and the wrinkles etched in her forehead deepened as her scowl did as well. " Neither of us have heard from you in days and we're worried sick. You aren't answering your phone. I talked to Lori and she can't come over right now, so she sent me. " Rick suddenly found himself laughing hysterically, his shoulders shaking, and he guffawed with his head lowered, his fingers still to the bridge of his nose until he couldn't take it anymore, and then he threw his head back, his laughter echoing throughout his bedroom. Jessie looked even more confused than she already was.

" _She sent you,_ " Rick scoffed in mockery. " I suppose knockin' at the door was too difficult for you then? Since when do you and Lori spend your time together worryin' about me? As if the two of you ever have? " he asked, his once mild anger now on the brink of boiling. Her being in his home uninvited was beyond meddlesome and he was becoming more callous and bitterly annoyed rapidly. Jessie was taken aback by his laughter and insolate statement. She was on the brink of tears again and Rick was in no mood to witness a trademark Jessie meltdown- not when he was beginning to feel so shitty himself.

This was customary with her over the past few months. Her persistent, bothersome questions- her prying behavior. Rick didn't understand why they had even dated in the first place. Loneliness made men do stupid things. He should have never gone out with one of Lori's closest friends, but months after his divorce, Rick had been a pitiful loner, and his solitude and need for human contact caused him to do things that he would now frown upon and deny profusely.

His first dates with Jessie had been awkward, at best; forced laughter, dull conversation and fake smiles. He could never seem to open up to her or get comfortable around her, and though Rick thought her sort of pretty- though he had pursued her in the beginning- something had always been off about their encounters when they were alone together. Something was always missing between them in their interactions. And being with her had somehow still made him feel like the loneliest man in the world. When he couldn't take it anymore, he called things off at the beginning of the year, after barely a month of starting their strange courtship, and Rick had spent the last six months trying to convince Jessie that it was truly over between them.

" What do you mean by that, Rick? " Jessie asked, clearly addled by his question about her and Lori. She crossed her arms over her blue flannel button-down, body rigid in wait for his reply, her bottom lip practically quivering. Rick shook his head and held up his hand as he looked away, vexed and already done with their conversation before it even began. He wasn't going to talk to her about his feelings. He never could and he had never wanted to.

" Forget it, " he mumbled. " Just leave. You and Lori wanted to know where I was. So here I am. I ain't dead. I'm just fine, actually. Now you can see yourself out. I have thangs to do." Jessie stood fast, her anger stirred and now evident. She glanced away and looked down at his bedside end table, her eyes flickering oddly when she saw the bright orange top and gold silk panties that Michonne had left behind in his room. Rick had folded the top and laid it there neatly in anticipation for her return, and he kept the panties beneath them as reference to buy her another pair as he promised in apology for ripping them.

" Who does that belong to? " Jessie asked, reaching for the clothing. Rick was irritated by her audacity. He grabbed Michonne's clothing before Jessie could touch it and she was on the verge of tears again in a split second. " Are you seriously seeing someone else? " Rick tongued the inside of his cheek, his head tilting as he felt his expression and scowl deepen, past agitation and bordering on the verge of rage, and he knew he was about to have an outburst if he didn't control his temper.

He realized suddenly that he wasn't feeling very much like himself.

The previous night had been a drain of every possible emotion and his hangover was only making matters worse. It began with the momentary torment at the realization that he had taken a life for the very first time on patrol. He never realized how lucky he had been when it came to that aspect of his job; that in all the fifteen years he had worked in the King County Police Department, all the days he had been on duty, he never once had to end a life. He had injured people before, but he had never killed... not until that day. And it was only hours before this current moment of wakefulness. His victim wasn't even six feet under yet.

The rush of perplexing relief he had felt while the revolver smoked in his hands nearly unhinged him, the muzzle flash a temporary blindness full of bright canary yellow and orange-sunset light. The monotony of tinitus rang in his ears like an alarm and the guilt quickly followed when he let go of the trigger, his hands shaking. And when it finally registered- when he felt that blood coagulate on his cheeks and his arm and the scream had subsided, he realized that he was _glad_.

Rick was glad that his suspect was dead because he put his life, and so many others, at risk. His victim could have killed him, or Shane, or the innocent girlfriend that he had held hostage, and if Rick had died right there, he would have never seen Carl again. And he would have never met Michonne. He was never, ever going to let anyone take such precious opportunities from him. And he wasn't going to let anyone take the lives of the innocent citizens and passersby either. He couldn't. It was his sworn duty to protect and he always would.

The shame of his relief wasn't too far behind, stalking quietly, hidden in temporary respite during his post incident interview and the drive down the highway as he half listened to the radio. It finally crept in when he was alone in the hospital room with the man. The shame lingered, content to stay when he revealed himself to the parents of his victim. Embarrassment laid in wait, making its gloomy appearance as he was forced to hand over his service weapon and uniform for regulatory investigation.

And then later on that night... when he had met Michonne, he felt something different- the trickling waves of excitement, bubbling and bursting in his mouth like light, effervescent champagne. The dizzying lust followed, lighting a fire in him, the licks of flames he had never felt singeing him before. Then came the contentment that warmed him when she comforted him, when he slept next to her, wrapped in her suppleness. The longing he felt now for her was heavy in his chest and in the dark, stirring pits of his stomach.

But currently, the only thing he was feeling at all was complete and utter annoyance for the woman standing in front of him that had caused him so much frustration earlier on in the year. Frustration that blurred his vision and confused him greatly. He almost didn't quite understand his disdain until he rehashed all of their dates and conversations, and each time he did so, it made his head ache. Jessie made him regret ever agreeing to date her to begin with.

The vein in his forehead was pulsating; he could feel it vividly, his heartbeat pumping in time with his blood like the pounding rhythm of a drum, amplified by the aftereffects of his bourbon drinking and lovemaking.

" What do you mean 'someone else'? " he exploded suddenly. " Why're you sayin' it like we're still together? Like she's a second choice? " He threw back the sheet and stood, unperturbed by his own near nakedness, before her in only his boxers, his hands resting on his hips as he leaned towards her. " I'm seein' _someone_. Not someone _else_ , Jessie. We're done. We have been for months. I don't understand why you aren't graspin' this. " He loomed over her, and she shrank away defensively, though still courageous enough to utter her next statement.

" Why would you rather be with her? Because you fucked her? " Rick absorbed her words. He clenched his teeth, his muscles and jaw tensing.

" Excuse me? " he growled.

" We broke up because you didn't want to sleep with me, Rick. You know it and I know it. God, I could always tell how unattracted you were to me. So now instead of trying to work things out- or rather trying not to be such a vain and shallow man towards me, you screw some tramp you just met. " Her last choice of words had Rick fuming, and he was left to hold back his fury like a lunging, snarling dog on a tattered leash.

" We broke up because I didn't feel anythang for you. In any form and I never will. You forced it and I tried; I really did, but I wasn't feelin' it. I deserve some good feelings in my life, for Christ sake, and you weren't fuckin' givin' me any, Jessie. And you don't know the first goddamn thing about her, so watch what you say , " he barked. Jessie shook her head slowly.

" I swear to God, you're just like every other man, Rick... All you care about is sex. " Rick rolled his eyes, looking heavenward for a second and then stepping away from her, rounding her to retrieve his broken phone from the floor.

" You're obviously not hearin' me," he said, straightening his posture and meeting her eyes reluctantly again. " So I'm gonna say it one more time, Jessie. I didn't feel anythang for you then, and I definitely don't now. What's so difficult to understand? Look... I'm done talkin'. We're never gonna work anythang out because there is nothing to work out. We have nothing. We never really did. " Jessie looked away, visibly hurt by his words, but appearing as though she was not accepting them. He knew she wasn't going to let this go.

" You're different, Rick. What's wrong with you? Is this because of the shooting? " she asked in a throaty whisper, containing her tears as she stared at Michonne's clothing, now on his bed between the pillows. Rick figured she must have seen something on the news. He dreaded even the sound of television when he knew he was on the screen, and the media would rejoice if he were to show his face and answer questions. He would have to avoid it at all costs.

" Nothin's wrong with me... Absolutely nothin'," he said with such fervor that he surprised himself. " Now get out. And give me that key, " he finished, taking them from her grasp and waiting for her to leave. He could hear her sniffles and shuffling feet as she departed. He went downstairs and locked the door behind her after she had gone, glancing down at the time ticking on his wrist and realizing it was only ten in morning. Michonne had left merely two hours ago.

Rick groaned. How did he already miss her so tremendously? How on Earth was he already dreaming of her?

He didn't understand the ache he felt; the longing churning deep in his belly. It was unusual to him...but so very refreshing. He felt silly, light of heart now in the quiet of his home with Michonne on his mind. He shuffled up the stairs and back to bed, climbing under his sheets and melting into the linens at the inhilation of a hint of Michonne's scent. It wafted into his nostrils and his mouth watered as he thought of the last time he smelled it at its prime; when his face was buried against her lovely neck as he came deep inside of her.

He closed his eyes and drifted off, relishing in a couple more hours of sleep on his day off, knowing that when he woke, in addition to the leisurely diversions that came with the weekend, he would go to buy a new phone so that he could call Michonne as soon as possible and hear her soothing voice on the other end of the line.

•••

 _ **Michonne**_

 **11:41AM**

A deep, dull ache dwelled at the apex of Michonne's overworked thighs and the throbbing of that pain made her damp with arousal anew. She shifted in her blue plastic chair uncomfortably, crossing one leg over the other, and when her muscles tensed with soreness as she moved, she covered a faint smile with a sweep of her hand, her stomach fluttering madly. She hadn't felt that sensation in her tummy for eons. Michonne accidentally smiled again, picking at her cobb salad with a fork and tumbling the chicken about the plate on a sea of romaine lettuce and fresh spinach.

" He was good, wasn't he?, " Andrea asked, her bright smile wide. A giggle overflowed from her as she closed her mouth around the lip of her glass to sip some lemonade, her laughter producing bubbles of yellow liquid that splashed from the cup and spilled onto the table. She set the glass down and covered her mouth with her hand, muffling her tittering eruption with her fingers and squeezing her eyes shut. She looked like she was on the verge of choking. Michonne fought through the slight vexation she felt for her best friend's outburst, setting her fork down and rolling her eyes.

" Shut up, " Michonne said, quirking her lips and trying her hardest not to smile back.

'Good' was an understatement. 'Good' didn't do him any justice. 'Good' wasn't a word worthy of being used in a sentence when it came to describing Rick Grimes and his tantalizing lovemaking. Andrea kept laughing, a hand to her cloaked bosom.

" You can barely walk, " she said, her vibrant eyes tearing up as Michonne tried to turn her attention back to her salad. Andrea leaned closer and wagged her blonde eyebrows comically. " Is he big? He's big, isn't he? " Michonne herself nearly choked on a shred of lettuce, patting her chest with one hand and setting her fork down again with the other.

" Shit, Andrea. Are you trying to kill me? " she asked, recovering from her sputtering. She took a long sip of water through her straw to relieve her scratchy throat.

" C'mon. _Dish._ I haven't seen a man trip over himself like that in... ever. The way he looked at you... Geez. How good is he? Are you gonna see him again? " Her sudden bombardment of questions was a pleasant surprise. Andrea usually wasn't a nosy person when it came to Michonne's sex life, awaiting instead to be told rather than to pry. Andrea knew her best friend was guarded and private, and that she never went into great detail about anyone she dated, not even ex boyfriends. The two women had known each other for nearly a decade and a half, and Andrea was always the one babbling on about some stud she had met and bedded, describing her escapades in animated fashion. But Michonne loved that about her friend. And knowing that she too, had taken curious and unprecedented interest in Rick over any other man they had ever brought up or discussed made her smile. Michonne knew that he was a special man. Her instincts always seemed to be on the nose. And it was refreshing to see that she wasn't the only one who had noticed Rick's charm. She lightly placed her glass down on the table again and shook her head.

" We're supposed to be discussing the appeal. You said you'd help me look over my notes, " Michonne scolded mildly. She began eating her salad again, poking a cherry tomato and putting it in her mouth. She bit down sharply and it popped, the juices coating her tongue.

" Michonne... you better tell me if he fucked you good or not. I see those hickeys. Lord knows you need a good banging... You have been _so_ uptight. I bet he's big. He would have to be or you wouldn't be smiling like that. I'm not as dumb as I look. Mm... Yup. I knew it. He looked like he was packing and he wasn't even carrying his gun. " Michonne's eyes widened and she burst into laughter loudly, almost snorting. She slapped her hand over her mouth as Andrea joined her. A few people occupying the quaint space of the outdoor dining area of the deli regarded them with disapproving glances, distracted by the pairs' giggles.

" You have no shame, Andrea Harrison... Fine. He's more than good, and yes, I'm going to see him again. That's all I'm going to say. " She took another bite of salad, nibbling a strawberry and observing how pink the inside pulp was. The color now reminded her of Rick's lips. Her cheeks warmed. She was feeling silly and giddy again.

" Nuh uh. Deets, " Andrea said, chewing a bite of her turkey sandwich and tugging at a piece of the sourdough crust. Michonne narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, the warmth in her cheeks spreading across her skin.

" No, " she replied, stabbing at piece of chicken forcefully. She tried to halt the direction her thoughts were traveling, but her mind was swimming with daydreams of him already: of his handsome crooked smile and tumbling curls and those full, tempting lips- the dark patch of his stubble that left behind the sting of beard burn on her face and neck. The swelter of his heated skin against hers and the feel of his mouth on her every inch of flesh... his overworked, calloused hands all over her body...

She stopped her train of thought abruptly, containing the shiver that rushed over her and raced down to her toes. If she kept it up, she would have to go back to his house immediately and have another dose of Rick Grimes.

Michonne recalled gazing at her reflection in the vanity mirror of Andrea's sedan earlier that morning and then at home in her bathroom before she brushed her teeth. She had noticed that her lips were swollen from his kisses, and still sticky with the sweet juice of the apple they shared at breakfast. Rick had lavished the crook of her neck in dark love bites, the splotchy discolorations and dialated blood vessels leaving her skin painted purplish on the canvas of her deep brown complexion. The faint pain sang a reminder to her every time she felt its smarting sting, whispering things that sent her imagination running wild.

Andrea had taken her back to her house to change her clothing quickly. Michonne had ignored her best friend's giggly 'walk of shame' remark in regards to her miniskirt from the previous night. After washing up in the bathroom, she slipped into a black pencil skirt and matching heels, still wearing Rick's white dress shirt as part of the ensemble. She could smell him in the fabric as she tucked the remnants of the garment inside the hem of her skirt. She had inhaled the aroma of him and his home- of sweet sandalwood and smoke and dark berries- a hint of who he was trapped in the stitches.

Michonne already yearned to see him again- to be in his bed with him, tossing and writhing under the sheets, but instead, she decided to submerge herself in her work, knowing that if she returned too soon, she might appear more desperate than intended. And if not, she was afraid that if she did not come back to see him, she might regret it. His bed and his company and his body folded around hers had brought her hours of restful sleep, a pleasure she had not had in over a year. She couldn't think of a better place to be. And knowing that made her angry. Michonne never allowed anyone so close to her within such a short amount of time. She was furious with herself for trying to have a one night stand with a man too special to pass up more time with. She had never had a one night stand before and she certainly was not going to stop seeing Rick. They both deserved a second meeting and a first official date. And Michonne couldn't believe that, in her state, she even possessed the capacity to handle getting to know someone new, especially a man. She ached to see him again; to be in the presence of the only soul that had brought her true comfort in the recent months...

But the duty of work called and she knew she couldn't indulge her urges just yet. Michonne had more control than she gave herself credit for.

She didn't want her client to lose her child in every sense, and she did not want her client to spend the next twenty-some odd years behind bars for acting on her own instincts. Once Andrea quit her prodding, the two women finished their lunch quickly and left the deli to get a bit more work done at the firm. Michonne kept her mind on the situation at hand... but she knew she was going to get caught smiling more than once, because she couldn't keep Rick from swaggering back into her thoughts whenever he pleased...

•••

 _ **Rick**_

 **12:05PM**

Rick pushed past the ringing glass door of the tiny cellphone store, stepping out into the boiling July heat and staring down at his brand-new touch screen cellphone. He had dealt with a bit of unnecessary hassle to replace the broken one, but after dishing out a few hundred bucks, the employees finally shut up and put all of his information on the new device. With his same phone number and all of his memories where he had left them, he exited the store with a shiny new toy in hand.

Reaching deep into his pocket for the secure place he had kept it, Rick retrieved Michonne's business card and smiled down at it when her gorgeous face flashed into his mind's eye. He fumbled with his new phone, learning its ways and quirks as he found shade beneath an awning on the strip mall's sidewalk. He quickly added her name and number to his contacts, wishing that he had a picture of her to use- noting that perhaps he would take one of her when he saw here again. He thought about calling her at that precise moment and then changed his mind completely, not wanting to seem desperate in her eyes. He was going to try his hardest to play it cool.

Rick had taken another cab from his home to retrieve his squad car from the city, and the yellow taxi had reminded him of his time with Michonne the night before. He spent the cab ride daydreaming about her, lost in an imaginary world that seemed inhabited by only the two of them. The thought of her was astoundingly calming, and Rick had then diverted the cab driver in another direction, asking him to change routes and head for the electronics store because he couldn't _stop_ thinking about her, and couldn't wait to call her. The cruiser could wait. And as the driver made a u-turn, Rick realized that he was making all of his decisions with Michonne in mind.

When he got to the shop, he ignored every miniscule sense of small talk and found his favorite choice of cellular phones, already hankering to liven up the wallpaper with an image of her gorgeous, smiling face the moment he saw the screen. He left the little technological business on cloud nine, feeling as though he floatted while he walked, and he called another cab to take him a few blocks away; back to the club and bar where he had met Michonne to finally get his patrol car.

He was dropped off at the corner of Main and forced to walked, relieved when he found his cruiser unharmed and as he left it. He unlocked the door and climbed in, turning on the engine and the air and radio all at once and settling in to check his new messages. Along with several pestering calls from Lori and Jessie, there were a few texts from Carl and a missed called from Shane, as well as, to Rick's surprise, a few missed calls from his best friend, Daryl Dixon. Rick replied to his son's texts quickly, apologizing for not answering sooner; asking him how he was doing and if he needed anything for the following weekend when he was to come over for his visit. Next, Rick called Daryl, avoiding speaking to Shane just yet in fear of being forced to talk to Lori or being asked to come back to the hospital. He most certainly was not going back to Grady Memorial. He wasn't ready.

He couldn't face reality. He couldn't make himself return to a place that had conceived so many dreadful thoughts and nightmarish dreams.

Only an hour ago, after drifting back to sleep and hoping that he would dream of Michonne again, an entirely different dream presented itself to him in his headachy remnants of slumber: his victim. A dead man walking about in his now darkened memories.

He had had a dream about him, and though it was short, it would not soon be forgotten. Rick heard his name repeatedly. His red haired, wide-eyed girlfriend had screamed it again and again, her hands flailing, tears streaming down her pale face, and Rick wondered if that name would be stuck in his head forever.

 _Jody._ Rick finally forced himself said it aloud.

" Jody."

Flashes of shooting Jody in the face replayed in Rick's dream violently and repeatedly, and after rewinding, played again in his head as he sat in his squad car, gripping his phone tightly in his sweaty hand. The fleeting seconds of the occurrence replayed again. And again. And again... And he couldn't escape it.

The way Jody's steely gray eyes widened an instant before the bullet hit him, his gaze opened to stare death in the face as it came for him in the form of a speeding .357 round in the center of his eyes and nose, right along the bridge. The way his body went rigid with shock the moment the lead and copper projectile hit him, the black Beretta he held falling to the asphalt with a clatter, his knees buckling beneath his weight. The spray of his blood and brains behind him against the backdrop of blue cloudless sky was like nothing else Rick had ever seen. The pooling of his ichor was like wine spilled on a spotless carpet.

And it all excited Rick. And it frightened him. The thrill of having the power to save lives and take another all in one instance, made his adrenaline pump hot and hurried in his veins, then and now. His longstanding morals told him it was wrong to feel such a way, and it sent him into a dizzying abyss of inner struggle in which he had no earthly idea how to crawl out of.

Perhaps he didn't want to. Maybe he was punishing himself for what he had done. A voice in his ear brought him back to the present. Rick had forgotten that he was in the middle of a call.

" Hello? " Daryl answered the phone after several rings in his usual grumbling voice, snapping Rick out of his ponderings and bad memories.

" Hey, it's Rick. "

" What's up, man? Weren't we s'pose to go fishin'? I'm out here on the lake right now. " Rick sucked his teeth and winced. After all that had happened the day before, his plans to unwind with his best friend had completely slipped his mind.

" Shit, man, I forgot... I'm sorry. Had a rough day yesterday. Went out last night. Got caught up and slept in. " He heard a rush of wind in the receiver and figured Daryl was blowing smoke, his lips wrapped around a shortening cigarette.

" You alright? " his friend asked. " Wanna meet up at the range? Blow off some steam? " Rick hadn't thought of that. He was hesitant. He would have to go without his service revolver and he missed his beautiful, stainless Colt dearly. And he was hardly sure if he was ready to fire a gun again, a first for him.

" Eh, alright... Why the hell not. Meet me over there in a few hours, okay?... 'Round three or somethin'. " Daryl grunted a short reply in agreement and Rick hung up, glancing out of the window and catching sight of something that made his heart jump and his muscles lock up.

Standing just feet away, Jody swayed on the sidewalk, looming quite close to where Rick had stood with Michonne as they waited for their taxi the night before. It almost soured the memory. Almost.

Jody glared at Rick with a snarling scowl, blood pooling in his front teeth. The upper half of his face was gone, dripping and oozing onto the hot pavement at his feet, his remaining eye wide with horror. Rick stared back, blinking slowly, and his trigger finger twitched. An SUV drove by a moment later, obtructing his view, and when it finally passed, Jody was gone again, the sidewalk empty without him. Rick turned the key in the ignition, buckling his seatbelt and veering away from the curb with a screech of the brakes. He drove off with the sounds of relaxing music on the radio, his jaw clenched and his body rigid with rage. The music sounded so sweet, and he thought of Michonne again. But when he closed his eyes, Jody was there. He couldn't shake him. Suddenly, Rick knew that he was going to cry again, and he welcomed the tears like old friends...

•••

 _ **Michonne**_

 **1:21PM**

A middle-aged, gray-haired woman, a former housewife, sat across from Michonne at a drab table in one of Atlanta Detention Center's many visitation rooms. Handcuffs winked white sunlight as her hands rested on the surface before her, fingers interlocked, thumbs twitching with nervousness.

Carol Peletier was a modest woman; soft-spoken and sometimes kind, but tight-lipped and a little too reserved. She was skilled at hiding her emotions but it made it easy for Michonne to be around her. Michonne was good at fishing out others' secrets. And she knew that she was still waiting for Carol to divulge something paramount. This case had always felt a little personal and a little strange for Michonne, but she tried not to let her mind become clouded. Every case was personal in a way. Yet something about this one felt peculiar. She just wasn't sure she had every fact straightforward. And it must have made Michonne unleash enough to lose the entire case.

Despite her charges, Carol had been more than good to her late husband, Ed- even when he insisted on beating the crap out of her and their young daughter and bossing the two around like they were in the barracks.

Carol had changed drastically over the last few months, now hardened by the brutal act of killing Ed in self defense, and just the same, by the downfalls of the ruthless home she was forced to make behind bars. She had to live with the decisions she made for herself: to stab her husband repeatedly after she and her daughter, Sophia, had been beaten unmercifully one rainy Saturday for not cleaning the house before Ed's drinking buddies came over to messy it all over again.

Ed had broken Sophia's arm in two places when he grabbed her from her spot on the floor while she joyously watched cartoons, and he showed no sympathy for his child's tears when Sophia broke down in apology. He had dragged her into the kitchen to wash the dishes she had left, bellowing curses all the way, and Carol followed, enraged by her daughter's screeching cries. Her child's pale brown hair was stuck to her skin with the snot of her runny nose, her face stained with tears as her father yanked her around like an object and shouted careless obscenities.

When Carol had interfered, Ed cast Sophia aside so forcefully that she fell against the tile flooring, cracking her head on the hard surface and blacking out instantly. The trauma caused an immediate, unprecedented seizure and, in panic and rage, Carol lashed out. She reached for Ed with claws bared. And Ed had responded with fury of his own, closing his hands around his wife's neck and choking her violently.

He told her that he was tired of them both; that he had finally had enough, and he had tightened his grip until Carol was gasping for air and tears had left trails of brine down her cheeks. A knife on the kitchen counter was in close enough proximity, and she reached for it blindly with everything she had, raising it above her head and bringing it down so sharply that she stabbed Ed in the throat. When he stumbled back in shock, she attacked him further, straddling his bleeding, blubbering body and stabbing him repeatedly in the torso as the house grew quiet around her. She had called the police soon after and a day later, Michonne was hired by a close friend of Carol's to represent the case. Michonne was known around Atlanta for her reputation in defending the wrongly and criminally accused, and she was known by the country alike for her privy to self-defense cases.

Carol's recounting of the events painted an eloquent picture for Michonne, in addition to her copies of all the graphic crime scene photos. But there were no witnesses. With Sophia's minor accounts of the incident, Michonne did not think this case was arguably first-degree murder. The district attorney claimed that Carol provoked Ed that day with the intention of killing him in cold blood, and the jury, mostly male and Caucasian, had agreed with the prosecutor profusely. Without Sophia's testimony in court, the jury had nothing but a few pieces of evidence and a nonsensical tale weaved from the prosecutors about Carol waiting patiently for her opportunity to strike and using her daughter as the trigger.

With her client denying these claims so adamantly, Michonne had a duty to defend her honor. Her clients were always truthful, and yet somehow, always the underdog. The verdict didn't seem fair if the case was truly self-defense. It felt like the world had something against Carol Peletier. There was no proof stating her retelling otherwise, but everyone else seemed to notice a reasonable doubt that Michonne couldn't see.

" How are you feeling?, " Michonne asked sympathetically, studying Carol's face and straightening her notes into a neat stack. Carol sighed, exasperaSat, her eyes weary with worry.

" What do you think, Ms. Walker. It's horrible in here. I woke up this morning with the _fattest_ cockroach I have ever seen just sitting there on my pillow... I wanted to scream. And it's hot as hell in here; there's no air conditioning and I miss- . " Carol stopped and inhaled sharply, her light eyes watering. " Do you think the case will appeal? " Michonne shuffled through her papers, reading over her tidy notes again.

" I'm meeting with the judge, the district attorney and the assistant D.A on Monday. This charge is ludicrous, Carol. You know that, right? To even suggest that you had intent- that this was premeditated- when you acted in self-defense is, excuse me, fucking ridiculous. I'm sorry. I'm going to try as hard as I can to get the case appealed and the sentence reduced, alright? After that, all we can do is hope for a trial and a kinder jury. " Carol heaved a shaky sigh.

" And if you can't get the appeal? " she whispered, her voice cracking. Michonne studied her client's face, worry sinking into her bones as she examined her thoroughly. She was unsure of what would happen but she had to ensure that Carol had some hope, and enough faith to see it all through to the end, or at least to the end of the day. Something in her grey eyes held a frightening chill.

" I'm going to do everything in my power, Carol. You have my word. Just don't give up on me, " Michonne said sincerely, but her words of affirmation fell on deaf ears as Carol looked away discouraged, her thoughts of dread manifesting into thick tears that trickled down her cheeks. Michonne scowled, doubt rushing over her rapidly and clouding her mind with negativity she knew she had to escape...

•••

 _ **Rick**_

 **3:04PM**

Brass shell casings clattered to the floor around Rick's booted feet, out of time with the bang of gunshots from his Heckler and Koch Mark 23 as he squeezed the trigger repeatedly. His sights were lined perfectly. He took another few shots, trying his best to ease his tensions as the target rippled fifteen yards down the range. Daryl was in the booth beside him, shooting his exceptionally loud Ruger Speed Six revolver. The sound made Rick miss his own six shooter.

The pair had gone through at least two hundred rounds of ammunition each already, obliterating targets into tattered ruins of paper on the floor of their favorite gun range.

Every pull of the trigger was more satisfying than the last. Rick could feel the recoil in his teeth. He could taste the lead in the air on his tongue- feel the ache and soreness spreading in his tense hands. But he kept on shooting. Even when his ears began to ring and his vision started to blur.

And all he saw at the end of the range, hanging from the clips of the target retriever like a limp rag doll, was a bloody Jody, drinking every bullet like burning hot liquid until old, brown blood dribbled from his lips. Rick tightened his grip, unloading another magazine of .45 caliber rounds into his victims oozing face, his teeth gritted, his vision hazing with fury.

He heard a muffled cadence through his ear protection and ignored the sound entirely. It wasn't hard. He had been drowning out everything around him. His heart hadn't stopped racing in hours and he couldn't stop sweating. Rick realized that he could hear screams everywhere he went. Holding back tears, he pressed down the mag release with his thumb until it sprang free, and he cast it aside before jamming another full mag into the well and lining his sights. He fired all twelve rounds in rapid succession, each and every one of them striking Jody's face until his head was a leaking mass of skin and broken skull.

A hand on Rick's shoulder made him jump suddenly and respond in defense. He removed his finger from the trigger of his handgun and turned, ramming the butt of his weapon into Daryl's nose and springing back in surprise.

" Son of a fuckin' bitch, Rick! " His friend stumbled back, clutching his bloodied nose, eyes squinted with irritation. Rick set down his pistol, regret shrouding his face as his hands went out towards his friend.

" Sorry. Shit, " he mumbled, embarrassed by his unease and glancing away. His hands dropped to his side, Daryl huffed and examined his red spotted palm, wiping his nose thereafter with the back of his hand.

" I think we need to get outta here. I dunno what's goin' on with you but you're jumpy as hell. I shouldn't've suggested the range, " Daryl said, packing his belongings into his small duffel bag. Rick quietly did the same.

" I'm real sorry, Daryl... , " Rick said again when they were outside, packing their things into their parked vehicles. Daryl shook his head.

" Don't worry about it, Rick, " he grumbled, still wiping away his blood. " Ain't like I never been hit in the face before. I'll be fine. "

" Make it up to you with some scotch I got last week? " Rick bargained, feeling guilty as he looked over Daryl's bloody and, no doubt broken, nose.

" Sounds good. I'll take it, " Daryl replied, slamming the white and blue tailgate of his pickup truck. " I'll follow you over to your place. " Rick nodded and climbed into his cruiser, the closing of Daryl's door causing him to jump. His eyes grew misty and he turned the key, bringing his squad car to life and pulling out of the parking lot quickly so that no one could see him cry. Again.

•••

 _ **Michonne**_

 **3:50PM**

Michonne walked to Andrea's dark blue sedan in a hurried pace, agitation heavy on her shoulders and evident in her steps. She was a blur of swinging arms and stomping feet. After discussing more of the case and going through the gritty details with Carol all over again, she was extremely unsure and unsettled about how it all would turn out. Michonne was worried that the pressure was becoming too much for them both.

Andrea switched on some soothing classical music when they were both buckled in and ready to drive away, sensing her best friend's mood, and she was silent as she pulled out of the parking lot and back into dreadful Atlanta traffic. A disturbing realization came to Michonne while she gazed out of the window, and she flung her briefcase open suddenly, peering inside at the contents and panicking.

Her pen.

It was missing.

Her heart constricted with trepidation and her skin started to tingle.

" Turn around, " she croaked, her scowl deepening severely.

" What? " Andrea asked, squinting and turning the music down.

" Turn the goddamn car around, Andrea, and go back to the prison! " she demanded. Andrea took an immediate turn, tires screeching frantically. She sped back to the prison with a foot jammed down on the gas pedal, and Michonne fled the car in a furious rush when they slid into a parallel spot along the curb. She trudged up the sidewalk and threw the entrance doors open wide, racing back through clearance as a piercing alarm rang out promptly, and Michonne feared for the worst.

" Code Purple! , " a burly prison guard yelled, trying to stop her as she ran through the hallway.

" Get the fuck out of my way. That's my client in there! ," Michonne exclaimed, jerking herself away from his grasp and rushing into the room where she had been speaking to Carol just minutes before. The small woman sat on the floor with her legs tucked beneath her. A chair had been jammed against to door so that no one could enter, and Michonne's pen was in her trembling hand. She appeared unable to make a crucial decision on whether to aim for her wrists or for her neck, lost in her dreary thoughts and sobbing uncontrollably. She held herself as she rocked to and fro like a child, a tiny puddle of tears collecting on thighs of her prison uniform.

Michonne cursed herself for keeping such a dangerous writing implement, but it was a gift from her father and she carried it everywhere for good luck. She wondered how Carol had even gotten her hands on it. She must have been determined.

" Carol! " Michonne shouted, her hands shaking the gated door. She could hear more guards fast approaching, feet stomping, keys rattling. " Please don't do this! Think of Sophia! Think of Sophia! " Carol shook her head in defeat, lifting the metal tip towards her and aiming the sharp pen at her neck. Her eyes fell closed and the tears fell like rapids.

" She'll be okay without me, " Carol rasped, her voice thick with sorrow. Michonne's own eyes stung with tears. She steadied her voice, trying her best to remain calm for her client.

" No, she won't. She needs you. Please don't do this... I can get your sentence reduced, Carol. I swear to God, I'll do everything humanely possible to get it reduced, just put the pen down and let the officers in. Please, Carol. Think of Sophia... " Carol slumped over into a weeping heap, the pen slipping from her fingers and falling to the floor. She crawled over and pulled the chair away from the door to let the officers in. As they rushed inside, Michonne beat them into the room. She picked Carol up from the dirty tile and held her tight, muffling her cries against her shirt; Rick's shirt. And as Michonne heaved a sigh of relief, calmed by Carol's safety and the reminder of Rick, she was beginning to realize that he could bring her peace of mind without even being near her.

She made the decision right then to see him again...

•••

 _ **Rick**_

 **6:46PM**

To a nosy passerby, the two men talking beneath the shade of Rick's front porch would definitely appear to be the best and closest of old friends. But Rick and Daryl had not known each other for a very long time. They had only met a year ago, in the midst of a missing child case that worried all of King County alike. Rick had led the team that found the little girl the previous spring, and Daryl had been a volunteer in that group of men and women, extending his community service outreach indefinitely after a mandatory six weeks following a public drunkenness charge. With no passion to stab at litter when he didn't have to, and a knowledge of the news of a missing girl, Daryl asked a then Lieutenant Rick to let him be a part of the team that went searching for her that early June day.

As a child abuse survivor himself, Daryl had shared the heartbreaking story of his own experience with Rick the night the team found the little girl, and Rick promised to let Daryl in on any volunteer opportunities that came across his desk when missing children were involved. The two bonded over talks of guns passed down from fathers and old family hound dogs, and after the little one was found safe and secure, and the search was ended, they made a promise to keep in touch.

But Rick's home hadn't seen the likes of so much company since he had moved in after the divorce. If Rick was at home, he usually wished to be there alone or with Carl, and when it came to spending time with his few friends, he frequented their homes and other public places rather than his own.

 _There's a first time for everything I suppose_ , he speculated, just like the otherworldly experience of meeting Michonne Walker in a bar he had never been to, dancing for the first time in years to a song he had never heard... that somehow described their introduction so precisely that it seemed unfathomable.

He was learning that he liked the sound of the voices of people he cared for drifting through his home. Rick felt a surge of extraordinary gratitude for the countless things surrounding him as he sat rocking in an old chair on his porch: for his safety and for his friend, for the imported beer in his hand and the shiny new phone in his pocket with Michonne's number ready and waiting on it, and even for his survivor's guilt, knowing that not everyone had been as lucky as he was. He could live another day, sip another beverage with a buddy, receive another hug from his son, another kiss from the woman he couldn't stop thinking of. And though a gruesome image hunted him, Rick didn't feel an ounce of remorse- not any longer. Since he had met Michonne- since the very moment he had kissed her lips- he knew that everything was going to be okay. And he didn't want to waste his time with feeling sorry for himself or anyone else.

Rick finished his beer and left to retrieve another, smirking when he returned to find Daryl guzzling his entire gifted bottle of scotch, down to the top of the label. He plopped back into his chair and they sat in silence, listening to music on the radio as they usually did together. Tidbits of conversation still passed between them here and there.

" You gonna tell me what's up with you? " Daryl asked when some time had slipped away. He lit a cigarette as another song ended with a twang. He rubbed his nose, brushing away the leftover blood still caked on his cupids bow. Rick sighed.

" I shot some fuckin' kid on duty yesterday. It's probably on the news now that I think about it, " he mumbled.

" You know I don't watch TV, " Daryl replied. " Shit, Rick...A kid? "

" I'm usin' the term loosely. But he might as well have been. He was about nineteen. Held his girlfriend hostage and I had to put him down. He shot Shane. " Rick gave only minor details, not wanting to divulge or talk about it extensively. He couldn't handle the way his brain was processing the event. It would only torture him.

" He alright? " Rick nodded, sipping his cold beer.

" Kid's dead. Shane's fine last time I checked. " Daryl blew smoke and ashed his cigarette, leaning back in his chair.

" Anything else? " Daryl asked, a raise of his dark brow. Rick was used to his sense of intuition and he noticed that Michonne shared that trait with his friend. He smiled.

" Met a woman last night, too, " he confessed. Daryl inhaled, raising both brows and smiling for the first time that day.

" Hell yeah, it's about damn time you got laid, you old son of a bitch! ," Daryl said, laughing heartily. His laughter was rare but Rick was glad to hear it. He kept smiling and took another sip of beer, clearing his throat once he swallowed the bitter brew.

" She's... aw, man, she's amazin'. Smart and sweet and downright gorgeous... Dunno what she sees in me... But that smile... Once she flashed that smile at me, I was done for. " Daryl chuckled, and Rick knew that his cheeks were crimson; he could feel them burning.

" That's great, man, " Daryl replied, eyes twinkling. Rick eyed him quizzically.

" You think so? I mean- you don't think it's too soon- y'know, after-? " Daryl shook his head so sharply that his hair flew about.

" Hell naw! You deserve it! Don't even start thinkin' that. Don't let her ruin somethin' else for you. " Rick nodded slowly in understanding.

" You're right. "

" Hell yeah I am. You should see her again. " Rick hesitated.

" I want to but... I'm not sure if I should call 'er again just yet... "

" What'd she say last time ya saw her? "

" ... To call 'er whenever... "

" Then what are you waitin' for, Grimes? She probably ain't the type to play games... Women nowadays don't seem to like that anymore. I wouldn't wanna disappoint her. " Rick smiled a little. He was getting dating advice from a friend, an act of normalcy he hadn't experienced in years. It really did seem as though things were getting better for him.

" Actually, you know what? You're absolutely right. If you don't mind... I'm gonna call her and ask her if she wants to come over here tonight..." Daryl stood up quickly and pocketed his pack of cigarettes, another one already hanging from his lips.

" Say no more, brother. I get the picture. I'll get the hell outta yer way. You can tell me about 'er next time around. We'll go fishin' like we were s'posed to. "

" You sure? " Rick asked, if only to be polite. His blood was already racing at the thought of seeing Michonne again within the hour. Daryl nodded and passed by, patting Rick on the back as hard as he could just for the chuckle.

" Yeah, don't worry 'bout me, man, " he said, lighting his next cigarette. " I'll talk to you later, Rick. "

" Bye, Daryl, " Rick called after him, waving. He grew anxious anyway as he watched his friend stagger to his pickup truck and drive away in a hurry, clearly drunk. Rick would remind himself to check up and make sure he got home safely.

He retrieved his phone from his jeans straight away and switched it on, scrolling down the contact list and finding Michonne's name. He heaved a nervous sigh, wondering if she was too busy for him. He paused and contemplated for a while, summoning his courage from seemingly nowhere before pressing the little green phone icon anyway and holding the device up to his ear. He closed his eyes and listened to his heartbeat race inside him.

 _Calm the fuck down, Grimes,_ he told himself, sighing again and taking another sip of beer as the phone rang a few more times.

" Hello? " Rick's eyes opened. He was both relieved to hear her and troubled by her tone. It was void of the good-natured calm he had heard the night before. She sounded tense and stressed, and it made his heart ache and his bottom lip pout.

" Michonne? You alright?, " he asked, setting his beer down on the wooden floor at his feet.

" No, " she murmured, her voice low, and he strained to hear her, wishing she was there with him.

" Anything I can do?... I mean, do you need anythang? " he asked hopefully, a long moment passing between them before she spoke again. Rick's fingers twitched anxiously.

" You, " she whispered finally, and a slow smile formed on his waiting lips. It took him far too long to reply. The one, simple word was too good to be true.

" And you claim you usually always get what you want... right? , " Rick implored.

" Yup, " Michonne replied. " I do. " Rick's smile widened so immensely that his cheeks began to hurt.

" Come and see me then. "

* * *

 _ **Stay tuned; I may have Chapter 3 up to very soon! Feedback is very much appreciated. Let me know your thoughts. Thank you for reading!**_


	3. Chapter 3

With the last of her patience rapidly running thin, an exhausted Michonne Walker slammed the passenger door of her Lexus sedan and set her sights on the entrance to Rick Grimes' inviting and attractive little home.

The day was going to end exactly the way she wanted it to; no more surprises in store, no more stress to muddle through. The long Saturday hours had dragged on endlessly, the week refusing to give way to the weekend, and things had gone even more awry just when Michonne had reached her limit. The pressure on her to request the appeal, for Carol and Sophia's sakes, had already become too great. And despite her strong will and gusto, it was all still enough to completely rattle her normally stoic psyche and leave her feeling defeated. And seeing Carol at her lowest point only hours ago made Michonne realize that she absolutely could not fail her client.

She figured she would take only one day off from work; a day of leisure to make the next an easy Sunday before she dedicated all of her strength and time to appealing and winning the difficult case. Carol needed that dedication more than anything. Prison offered many unwanted things, but it did not offer hope, and Sophia and Michonne had been Carol's only anchors to the outside world. She was hardly clinging to anything at all anymore, and Michonne was terrified that Carol really was on her very last leg. Michonne sighed and shoved work far into the corners of her mind.

Ascending the steps slowly, the sidewalk path was soon behind her, and with a few more paces, she was on Rick's porch, inhaling the faint scent of cigarettes and the sweet fumes of liquor. Michonne glanced over to her left and saw a few brown glass beer bottles and discarded, half-smoked butts. Rick wasn't a smoker; she was sure of that. She had tasted his tongue and saliva and she had consumed his sweet breath, and he most definitely was not a fan of nicotine. Perhaps he had had a friend over who did smoke, and, by the looks of it, either of them were very drunk, or they were both mildly intoxicated. Michonne smirked to herself.

She tossed her locs over her shoulder and rang the doorbell anxiously, pressing her thumb against the button twice. She couldn't wait to see his face, smiling down at her again; couldn't wait to melt away under his heated gaze and the touch of his attentive hands. She did not want to wait a minute longer without allowing him to take her stress away.

Michonne slid her heeled foot across the 'E' on the end of the welcome mat, peering down at it with out-of-focus vision and listening to sound of her heartbeat thump in her ears. Footsteps clapped a countdown on the other side of the dark green door.

A bit hesitantly, Michonne glanced up as the door crept open, sparks flying instantaneously as eyes met, smoky quartz on blue sapphire. She felt her body come alive when she watched his coral lips curve up into a crooked smile. His eyes scanned her admiringly, his hand now outstretched to invite her in. She took into regard his attire, revering his swagger and cowboyish sex appeal, and she licked her top lip as she studied him and drank him in, considering herself lucky to have met such a gorgeous man on such a whim.

He was still wearing that trademark gunbelt of his, a dark polymer handgun hanging from his hip holster over faded black jeans. A tight brown cotton t-shirt hugged every inch of his upper frame, painted across his tanned arms and stretched across his wide and rigid torso.

She loved his body. It was just the right amount of firmness and density; his muscles defined but not excessive, his figure lean but not too skinny. She switched and nibbled the inside of her bottom lip instead, taking his offered hand and preparing to step inside. The touch of his fingers against hers excited her thoroughly as she entered his home for the second time in under twenty-four hours, the door clicking closed against her back when he stepped forward and nudged her slightly. He was so close to her that she hadn't any room to move. His face was inches from hers and she forgot how to speak- what to say and how to say it- her body telling her only to breathe and to kiss him, the latter first, the former pushed aside and suddenly unimportant.

" I missed you, " Rick said gruffly through pursuing lips, and his words perplexed her, though she did smile in response to them. She had seen him only twelve hours ago- hell, she had only met him less than twenty-four hours ago, and _he missed her._

This man was already wrapped around her little finger, but she wasn't going to complain about it. A humming moan left her, trapped against his mouth when she leaned towards him and finally pressed her lips to his again. He wasted no time at all parting his own, silently asking for her tongue, and she gifted him with it, teasing his slowly, his upper lip in her mouth and the both of them already short of breath. Their bodies met roughly, chests colliding, moans echoing.

Michonne brought her hand to his face and ran it along his stubbled cheek, weaving her fingers up into his silken curls and pulling him closer still, by the impossibly soft nape. Their kiss deepened quickly, growing sloppy and libidinous, grunts and breathy whimpers shortened by the exchange of tongue and locking lips. She moaned, loudly this time, reluctantly pulling away and inhaling the faint hint of hops on his breath, Rick's arms still latched around her waist. His fingertips were sneaking into the hem of her pencil skirt anxiously.

" What's wrong? " he murmured, his lids heavy, long lashes fluttering with awakening desire.

" I was... examining the mess on your porch," she said, caressing his cheek with her thumb and catching her breath. Her touch made his eyes close. She was beginning to love the effect she had on him. " Did you have someone over or did you have a little party all by yourself? " she asked. Rick was hardly paying attention, though he was trying to. He could not focus. He dipped his head and buried his face in her neck and she felt him smile against her love bites. She trembled when he kissed her there as tenderly as he could manage, a contrast to his gravelly groans and the pressing of his solid hardness against her lower stomach.

" Had someone over ," he answered, his voice thick with arousal, his breath hot against her skin." Sent him home. " Her head tipped back and she nearly gave into him, aching to lift her skirt and let him enter her right there, with her back forced against his front door and her legs wrapped around his waist, greedy and waiting for his thrusts. " Went shootin' with him and then came back here; had some drinks. " Michonne blinked, recovering a bit from the stupor of lust, and she placed her hands on his chest, pushing him away gently and entrapping his gaze.

" You had drinks with your friend and then you let him drive home?... " Rick tilted his head.

" Well, yeah... Daryl ain't really the type that likes to be told what to do so I didn't say anythang, " he drawled. He tried to kiss her again but Michonne shook her head softly.

" Think what you want. He's your friend, so you know him better than I do, but I don't think you should have let him drive. " Rick seemed greatly affected by her mild scolding, and her persuasion altered his attitude immediately, causing him to frown.

" You want me to call him? Make sure he got home alright? " he asked. Michonne nodded sincerely, her expression solemn. " Jesus Christ, Michonne... I dunno how you do it but you really make it damn near impossible to say no to you. " She smiled a little. Rick stepped even closer to her, wrapping his arm around her waist again as he retrieved his phone from his pocket and called his friend. Their eyes met and Michonne watched his lips move as he spoke. " Yeah, Daryl?... " He paused to laugh handsomely. " Yeah, it does that. You alright?...Well, shit, I'm glad you did...Yeah, she's here now...Shut up, Daryl... I'm glad you're okay, though. Yeah, we'll meet up sometime this week. You too, man. See ya- Yeah, bye. "

Rick hung up and slipped his phone back into his jeans, smiling down at Michonne with a charming, toothy grin. " There. Just 'cause you asked me to. Now...where were we? " He leaned down to kiss her again and she swatted at him teasingly, stepping away and setting her briefcase down softly on his dining room table. He turned, smiling at her still, and watching her closely.

" Riiick, " Michonne murmured, peering around his home. His grin widened again.

" Yeah? "

" I'm gonna stay here tonight...and spend tomorrow with you," she said matter-of-factly. She knew she didn't have to ask. She knew that he would want the same. He swaggered over, his booted steps loud on the wooden floors. He licked his lips and raised a brow.

" Is that a question? " he asked, his hands on his hips and a faint smile twitchy on his lips, which were now stained with her red lipstick.

 _Damn, he looks good,_ she thought, giggling at the work of art she had left on his face. " No, " she replied with a smirk, dragging her fingers down the span of one long dreadlock before clutching its bronze bead and twirling it playfully. " I'm staying... I already stopped by my place and grabbed a few things, so we can spend all day together tomorrow... " She gauged his reaction as he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into an embrace.

" Sounds good to me," he murmured, bending to kiss her once more. She bit down on his bottom lip shaply, startling him, and he blinked down at her in confusion and choked a little sound. " What? "

" Hold your horses, Sheriff. I really want to take a bath... I need to relax a little. Think you can wait a little longer for me? " Rick groaned.

" No, " he replied. " But I'll wait if you want me to... I'm just gonna make you dirty once you're done. Think I can relax you better anyway. " He smirked and she rolled her eyes, smiling a bit at his presumption. He was probably correct in his assessment. And as she thought about it, he figured she might give him a try.

Rick led her up the stairs with his hand on the small of her back, guiding her into his master bathroom and giving her one of his white t-shirts to wear when she was done. " I'll see you in a bit, I reckon, " he mumbled, looking slightly crestfallen and severely disappointed. Michonne smirked, and Rick closed the door behind him in his retreat, leaving her all alone.

She switched on the faucets with her toes and ran the water as hot as she could tolerate, knowing it would dry her skin but not caring at all. She filled the square, spacious tub and rummaged through the cabinets, suprised to find bubble bath soap in the cupboard. She added a bit to the steaming water and undressed in a hurry, stepping into the tub and sighing as she sank into the water slowly, immersing herself in hot, liquid comfort. With a tip of her head, she settled back, turning the faucet off with her toes again and closing her eyes. It was just what she needed; to completely relax in the quiet. She sighed again and began to bathe, singing a favorite French song of hers she had had stuck in head for hours since she had first departed from Rick's home that morning.

 _Petit peu de bleu_  
 _Petit peu de rouge_  
 _Ce soir on peint l'amour_  
 _Le noir, le gris_  
 _Est interdit_  
 _Ce soir on peint l'amour_

She loved the way she sounded in the tub- the way her soprano and alto tones echoed around her. She wondered if Rick could hear her sing... and so she sang a little louder.

 _Faut essayer_  
 _On sait jamais c'qu'on va trouver_  
 _Ce soir on peint l'amour_

When she finished, she settled back again and kept singing, playing with her locs as they clung to her wet skin. Her heart and mind felt weighted and swollen with feeling and worry. She was grateful that the following day would be a much-needed respite, but anxieties swarmed her when she thought past the weekend. Her voice continued to echo through the bathroom, her melody reverberating from the tiled walls and back into her ears and her soul, calming her a little more each moment.

 _Ce soir on peint le fond_  
 _De notre amour profond_  
 _Ce soir on danse toute la nuit_  
 _Dis-moi ta couleur préférée_  
 _De cette couleur je trouverais_  
 _Une fleur pour mettre dans mes cheveux_

 _Petit peu de bleu_  
 _Petit peu de rouge_  
 _Ce soir on peint l'amour_  
 _Fais-moi une étoile_  
 _Je te ferais un bateau à voiles_  
 _Ce soir on peint l'amour_

She sighed yet again, aching to leave her suffering for a little while; to drown out those thoughts and worries with a little worthwhile pleasure.

 _But how?_ she thought aimlessly, scrubbing her long leg blindly above the water. Michonne opened her eyes hazily, catching sight of a detachable shower head and biting her lip when a deliciously naughty idea crept into her mind. She stood and plucked it from its post and sank back down into the water again, flicking on the twitch to the shower head and dunking it into the water anxiously. She gasped loudly when the warm, spraying pulses hit her most sensitive bundle of cells and she melted, a foot lifted and outstretched as her toes began to curl. Her other leg jerked, her knee hitting the tubs edge and she turned her face into her shoulder as a moan of delight trickled warmly from her throat.

She heard a faint and sudden knock on the door and her eyes fluttered open.

" Michonne? You okay in there? I heard somethin', " Rick asked from behind the door. She giggled softly, knowing he had stayed in his room to wait for her and had been listening to her sing, unable to pull himself away. Her eyes closed again and another naughty idea sprang into her mind. " Is everythang alright? " Rick prodded, a hint of concern in his drawl. He knocked softly again.

" I need your help, " Michonne called, feigning distress, her voice a teasing lilt, her hips squirming under the pulses of warm water. She caressed her nipples with her free hand, a content smile turning into a gasp as it hardened beneath her slippery thumb.

" You want me to come in? " Rick asked. She giggled.

" Yes. " She heard the doorknob turn and she bit her lip in anticipation, eyes still closed, toes still curling...

•••

Rick licked his lips and stepped into the bathroom, curiosity leaving him momentarily mute.

He stared foolishly when he caught sight of her.

It took a moment for him to register what was going on, his brain operating far too slowly at the arousing notion of seeing Michonne naked and slippery in his bathtub. She sat relaxed in a tiny sea of fluffy, white bubbles, her beautifully dark eyes closed, her head tipped back, her regal neck stretched and begging to be kissed.

He blinked when she moaned softly, and at last he noticed that the silver hose and nozzle of his shower head was hidden, buried beneath the suds, and one of her long legs hung from the lip of the bathtub, the prettiest toes he had ever seen curled in tensed rapture. She gasped, her hands moving slightly beneath the water and Rick finally realized what she was doing. He felt himself harden profoundly, his jeans suddenly strained and uncomfortable, and heat trickled across his skin as he blushed brilliant red.

" Michonne... " he started, finally finding his voice somewhere between his courage and lust, but at a complete loss for words. He was jealous- of a shower head. His cheeks burned beneath his itchy stubble.

" Shh, " she murmured, nibbling her lip a moment later. " Get into the tub with me. " Rick didn't need to be told twice. And he wouldn't make her ask again. He took off his boots, throwing them aside one at a time, and he stripped so quickly that he didn't even recall undressing, all nervousness gone and replaced with intrigue.

He slipped into the tub behind her. She made room for him as he sat down, the water sloshing and nearly burning his flushed skin and he didn't even care. He couldn't find the time to. The day had been miserable without her and all he longed for was to be as close to her as he possibly could. Michonne settled back between his thighs, her silky back pressed against his inflated chest, and he felt her entire body heave a contented sigh, the sweet sound bouncing off the walls around the quiet bathroom and resonating through him. Rick exhaled his defensive tenseness and wrapped his arms around her as her head fell back against his shoulder and she moaned so loudly that he felt the pleasant vibrations of her music.

He sat in marvel of her. Rick had never been so close to a woman that was pleasuring herself.

 _That's just pitiful,_ his brain told him, trying its best to wound his pride. But he shooed the cynical thought away. He was so glad he could have a first experience with her, especially one of this calibre. She seemed so comfortable with herself, and with him, as she let the pulsing water from the shower head caress her where he ached to touch her; to taste her, to be buried inside her. Her hair tickled his face whenever she writhed and he inhaled her sweet scent again each time she moved, mixed with the smell of his sandalwood soap and her musky sweet hints of pheromones. His mouth watered exceedingly. He could feel the rigid tension in her shoulders dissolve bit by stiff bit, and he wanted nothing else but to help ease more strain from her and from her alluringly aesthetic form.

" Touch me, " she moaned, pretty mouth pouted. Rick pressed his lips to her shoulder, running his hands up her stomach until his thumbs grazed her nipples, and he teased them slowly until they hardened in the wake of his slippery touch and she moaned again. " I had such a bad day," she purred, tossing her head faintly, and intently he listened, cherishing her every word, kissing her neck and teasing her with a flick of his tongue while he caressed the words from her lips despite her owe pace. " And I'm going to have a difficult week ahead of me...I might not be able to see you for awhile. " She paused when her hips bucked, and he saw her big brown eyes open slowly and then roll back in her head again, her thick bottom clip quivering.

" Tell me what you need, " Rick whispered against her hair, aching to please her- to ease her stress. He was under the impression that she didn't want to speak about what was bothering her so acutely; what had occurred that was causing her distress, and though he ached to know, he did not, and would not ask. He wouldn't pry. But the thought of not seeing her for awhile saddened him dreadfully...

However, right then, with her phenomenal body compressed to his, he wanted only to elicit moans from her mouth, to hear his name whispered from her lips, to feel her body against him as she came undone, over and over again. " Just tell me what you need, " he said pressingly again, eagerly- as he teased her nipples beneath the suds and made her gasp repeatedly.

" I need you... to fuck me... , " she managed between squirms. " Until I'm not thinking about anything except how good you feel inside me; 'til I can't speak... And then... fuck me some more. " Rick closed his eyes, letting her words be absorbed, her tone igniting a fire deep in the pits of his longing belly. He gladly accepted her request, lifting a hand to her chin, his thumb beneath her lip. She raised her head and looked up at him, eyes and long lashes veiled with lust, pupils large and dark and as captivating as endless, enigmatic space.

He guided her mouth to his and kissed her slowly, his other hand pushing the shower head away from her enviously and replacing the pulsing water with the firm touch of his impatient fingers. He found the little bundle of her most sensitive and sacred nerves and caressed her there with purpose, drawing small, deliberate circles over her honeyed clitoris. He wanted nothing more than to find each and every place on her body that made her sigh; made her sing, and squirm, and cry out his name.

Rick slipped his tongue past her plump lips as they parted with a shaky moan. Her legs jerked and she spread them wider greedily, pushing his thighs flush against the tub's perimeters to give him full access to herself. His fingers stroked her in slow, unhurried encompassed embrace and she reached up, pulling at his hair as their kiss deepened. Rick groaned, his fingers exploring her until she quivered, and her eyes rolled shut, her mouth falling open against his. He coaxed her tongue into his mouth with his and sucked on it, playing her like an instrument until she sang harmoniously for him, more passionately than the song she had preformed on her own accord.

Rick was beginning to love the way she came apart in his hands. He stared at her, pride making him smile softly and blush faintly while he watched her writhe. Her skin glowed, her wet, eternal locs falling into her face as she squirmed, her hips bucking beneath the water and exhales turning to throaty moans and gasps of bliss. He pulled her tighter against him, wishing they could be closer still somehow. He wrapped his lips around her earlobe and sucked it, biting gently when he got just what he wanted: her words of approval.

" _Fuc_ _k, "_ she sighed, wriggling in his arms. He applied more pressure to her soft, swollen little crux until her body jerked in his embrace. " Oh... Fuuu-. " She tried to speak, her frame tensing, twitching, and he closed his eyes as she stiffened and came, suddenly and forcefully, shuddering against him and his hand. " Oh. _Rick. "_ Her sigh caught in her throat and she grinded her ass against his stiff member, her nails digging into his thighs, deeper with each wave of pleasure. Rick smiled through the pain of it, thoroughly satisfied with himself for bringing her to climax with only his hand.

Michonne recovered slowly, sighing with satisfaction, and she turned to position herself on her knees above him, straddling one of his muscled legs. She reached beneath the water in a slow, teasing pace, taking his cock in her hand and squeezing it when their eyes met. Rick groaned, low and gravelly deep and discerning in his throat, and he was stunned by the sudden contact. He watched her closely and admirably, his vision blurring as his carnality took over and overwhelmed him. She squeezed him harder, slowly running her hand over his length with firm strokes and eager fingers, and he growled unencumbered, her affections freeing him of the bonds of restraint. Surprisingly enough, she encouraged his primal and erotic impulses, urging him on with fiery eyes that let him know he need not hold back- that she wanted this as well. He wished right then that she would wrap her pretty lips around him and take him there- down her tantalizing throat. He wanted to know what it might feel like to have himself in her enticing mouth. He lifted a hand from the water with a splash and cupped her chin and Michonne leaned forward to kiss him.

When she slipped her sugary tongue into his mouth, he lost it, lifting both hands to her cheeks and crushing her to him with feeling. Moaning into her, he bit her full bottom lip so hard that she nearly cried. And her eyes lit up in wonderment. She pulled away and caught his gaze.

" Come here, " Rick barked. " Stand up in front of me. " She stood, water rushing around her as she rose from its warmth and peered down at him and he marvelled at how willingly she heeded his requests; just as long as she was getting what she wanted. And he was going to give it to her...and much, much more. He watched the water slide down her deep brown skin, glistening, sparkling drops he ached to lick off of her. He turned his attention to the apex of her thighs, licking his lips in anticipation, yearning to taste her and to feel her quiver beneath his tongue.

He rose up, kneeling before her like she was his queen, and he lifted his hands, stroking her wet thighs firmly with fierce adoration in his touch. One hand grazed her ass as the other came forward to caress her folds gently, playing her with soft advances. She shuddered against his fingers and he pulled back to look up at her again, admiring her striking beauty; her statuesque form, her parting, whispering breath lips. She was bare, as she was all over, not a patch of hair in sight. Her pussy resembled a lush pink rose, dipped - covered- in the finest chocolate, the petals flawless and coated with the rains of her bath and her arousal. He wanted the dew- the creamy, dulcet nectar- on his tongue, his mouth watering for her like he was famished _and_ dying of thirst. Michonne reached down and combed her fingers through his hair, petting his curls as he leaned forward and at last, his tongue met her slick folds, the first taste of her so surprisingly sweet that he groaned aloud.

Soon, he was lapping at her earnestly and she was gasping, yanking at his hair and trembling against him. He ran his tongue over her relentlessly, teasing her clit with kisses before he closed his mouth around it fully and sucked ever so gently, applying just enough pressure to make her cry out in delight. He sucked harder, reaching up and slipping his hand between her firm thighs.

" Open your legs, " he demanded in a low growl, mouth pressed to her skin, voice vibrating and tickling her there. Michonne widened her stance, though her knees were shaky, and Rick smiled, flicking his tongue over her. " That's it. " He progressed, easing a finger inside her slowly and making her mewl. She tightened her grip on his curls as he teased her with the digit, her tugs and moans in sync with his tongue. He took her clit in his mouth again and buried his face against her, inhaling her scent and pressing closer. As her delight climbed, he curved his finger, stroking the sweet spot that made her gasp and groaning when she came suddenly. Michonne coated him in her drops of warmth and surrender, rasping out his name, hardly able to speak anything at all. Rick slowed his pace as she clenched around him, her knees going weak. She whimpered his name some more and stiffened, waves of pleasure still unnerving her when she tried to descend. She could barely breathe. He slid his finger out of her and slipped it in his mouth, sucking it clean hungrily and scooping her up before her knees gave in, his arm beneath her ass, a hand under her thigh.

He lifted her without struggle or strain, gazing up at her bewitching face, and her big brown eyes opened slowly to look down on him as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Michonne swallowed the last of her exclamations and focused on catching her breath, watching Rick stare at her greedily; as if he wished to devour her. It made her seem the slightest bit fearful, and she tightened up and tried to regulate her frantic body's responses.

Rick settled her back against the wall of his shower, still staring up at her as she recovered. He was utterly captivated by her; by each and every facet. Her stunning face was glowing from her state of bliss, flushed beneath her umber cheeks and glistening everywhere. " I'm gonna fuck you just like this, alright? Right here, right now, " he whispered in a daze. She cupped his face, kissing him deeply and sighing into his mouth before she spoke.

" Then what are you waiting for? "

•••

The sensation of Rick slipping inside her slowly and repeatedly and forcibly was something Michonne knew she was going to become terribly addicted to if she wasn't already ridiculously hooked. She wanted to scream. She didn't know how she had managed her restraint thus far, her moans held back with defiance and choked wails that finally erupted, tickling her throat on the way out.

He looked up at her through his long, light lashes, running his tongue over her nipple slowly and watching her as he pounded into her warm tightness. She gasped, feeling herself flutter uncontrollably around him, and he did it again, his breath ragged on her skin and his sweat dripping from his brow. The drops fell onto her chest and her tummy, washing over her. His curls fell into his eyes, freed from their combed sections to tickle her skin as he lavished her nipple with his fervid tongue.

She was blown away by his strength. She had never felt so light before. Rick was carrying all of her weight in only his hands, lifting her by the ass with ease and manipulating her body over his thick shaft, his muscles rippling each time he bounced her up and drove her back down again.

He was performing vastly dissimilar to their first time together. It had not gone unnoticed. Rick behaving far more aggressively, his actions more unbridled, his cries more impassioned. He was not holding back the way he had before. The blue in his eyes no longer held the torment she had seen the night before while they spoke in the cab; flickers of violence had replaced it. It was angry azure, bright, brazen blue, with flecks of cold, crisp cerulean.

He was an eager lover; more so than any other man she had been with...

And Michonne loved it. This side of him excited her even more than their first time. He made her bite her lip- made her want his thrusts to end with the hot evidence of his own climax spilled deep inside her. She couldn't believe how spectacular the sex was with him. She had imagined before that they might be compatible in bed- when she felt the chemistry between them on the dance floor- but she had not imagined it like this. They fit perfectly, in every way, their attraction explosive, and it made her weak with need. If he wasn't holding her so tightly, she would melt into a little puddle at his feet.

What she had felt the night before was growing, budding; blossoming into something beautiful. And what she was feeling presently wasn't the same tingle of new sparks flying, it was the first burst of wild flame, fanned by the gusts of their desire. And then it was smoldering and forming rapidly, and she was in awe of its splendor, its heat; its growth and its power. She tried to snuff it out, positive that nothing in this life should ever feel so good...

But Rick was all she had hoped he would be and more. She didn't have to tell him what to do or how to do it. Before she could say anything at all or ask for something, he was already licking there, or touching her somewhere neglected or kissing her elsewhere, and his lips would go one way and his hands the other. He needed no instruction. He knew just what she liked, and it happened to be exactly what he liked too.

She swooned, lightheaded from the thrill of danger in their wet whereabouts, and the succulent pain of his furious, insatiable thrusts. And when her head tilted back and she sighed that contented sigh again, the flame inside her was left unattended. It engulfed every cell and prospered, devastating anything in its path just as a wildfire would. And it grew stronger every second.

 _Can he feel it too?_ she thought. Was she imagining that she could see the very same look in his mesmerizing eyes?

Michonne watched him as he fucked her. There was something about the way he was staring up at her. Rick was lost in her observant gaze. She studied the way his jaw clenched, the way his brow furrowed, the way his eyes rolled shut occasionally as he enjoyed himself, buried inside her to the hilt until sliding out almost completely, only to slam back into her again in a slippery fury. She could hear it in his moans; feel it in the unquenchable grasps of his rough hands... He was falling victim, just as she was.

Rick devoured her in every way that he could. Not an ounce of his attention was taken away from her or taken for granted by her. His focus was dedicated to her whims and to her body and nothing else. He gauged her every reaction, smiling devilishly at the sounds and effects he produced.

She stared down at him, noting the marks of her red lipstick covering his flushed face and neck. Michonne sank her nails into his shoulders, claiming him with more marks, evidence of the hold he had on her; the hold she knew now to already have on him. He lifted her repeatedly by the hold he had on her ass, manipulating her body to move with ease over his thick cock. She reveled in his dominance, willing her eyes not to shut as she began to shiver and moan again from his sweet torment. Her clit was knotting, pulsing, throbbing; rubbing against his hard, lean Adonis belt to the point of madness. The crux of pleasure wasn't far behind. And she ached for its absolution.

" Mmm, I think-... I think I'm gonna come, " she choked out breathlessly, her body quivering, her legs shaking. Rick moaned, peering up at her with a look in his eyes that was almost frightening and it made her stomach flitter.

" Come for me then, darlin', " he said in a husky whisper. She moaned in reply. The word was so endearing, and sounded so sexy coming from his mouth, the second syllable a flick of his tongue on her nipple. Her eyes rolled shut for a moment until she heard him speak again. " Look at me, " he demanded, biting her nipple and sinking his nails into her thigh. " _Look at me. "_ She gasped and opened her eyes again, catching his gaze. " And keep your eyes on me. I wanna see your face when I fill you up. " His words make her weak, for it was just what she wanted. She _was_ addicted; she knew she was and she didn't care. She would take every dose of him she could get.

She could feel her body begin to sing, her moans raising an octave, a knowing tingle spreading over her breathless frame, tickling her nerves. She sensed her orgasm approaching rapidly as he slammed into her again and again.

" Oh..., " she whimpered, pouting. Rick leaned down, pulling her nipple between his teeth and flicking his tongue across the hardened surface. Her eyes squeezed shut for a second and she hoped he wouldn't see, opening them again quickly a moment later to look down at him. She raised a hand to his wet nape, grasping and pulling at his sweaty curls to keep from succumbing too hastily.

Rick turned his head, resting his face in the valley between the peaks of her breasts and running his tongue over her, lapping up the tiny river of sweat and water that trickled there. The look of intensity on his face as he watched her- the way he held her gaze beneath his fluttering lashes- his attentiveness to her, the steady onslaught of deliciously forceful thrusts, caused her to let go completely without even trying, and she thought for sure that she was going to die in his arms right then...

But what a way to go.

She surrendered to him, the pinnacle of her pleasure making her cry out his name not once, but twice, and she was astonished by the power and awe in her own voice as every atom fired like a piston. Warm, crashing waves swept her from reality for a long lingering moment of ecstasy. Her body jerked and her sighs sang, her wetness increasing plentifully and making his thrusts all the more slippery. And all the while, her eyes somehow managed to stay open, fixed on his watchful gaze until the blue began to hide behind his lids, his eyes rolling shut. They opened again slowly, now darkened and filled to the brim with hunger and the look on his face became like that of a lion, on the prowl with a ravenous appetite on the verge of being sated.

He growled like an animal, his teeth bared as he bounced her on his length greedily, his uninhibited passion making her whimper, his thrusts prolonging her climax. He sank into her a few more times until his release struck him in a trembling, frenzied rush. He moaned loudly, clinging to her and coming powerfully. He squeezed her tightly and emptied himself deep inside her, whimpering her name like a lovesick puppy. His heated release made her bite her lip hard and she stared into his bright blue eyes while he gifted her with exactly what she wanted in the midst of her own fluttering pleasure. He thrusted with desperation, his hand clutching her ass, and she held on for dear life, her arms around his neck, her legs locked around his waist. She grinded against him and they kissed frantically, teeth clashing and tongues colliding as they came together, tasting each others moans and grunts of delectable elation as spasms rocked their sweaty frames.

They savored the feelings rushing over them, wrapped in a breathless embrace, bare, sweaty bodies pressed together as they kissed angrily and sloppily. Michonne already wanted more. She fisted her hands into his hair, biting his lip so hard she thought it would bleed and he growled, his tone trembled when he spoke.

" I can't get enough of you, " he said, lifting his free hand from the wall of the shower, clinging to her and stepping out of the tub with her wrapped around him like a vine. He pushed the door open and she could feel his body shaking as he walked into his room and crawled into his bed with her. The sheets stuck to their damp skin, the both of them still breathless from their shared euphoria and unable to regulate their heartbeats.

" Good, " Michonne whispered in reply. She didn't want this time with him to end yet. All she wanted was to be in his bed for the rest of the night- for the rest of the weekend- waiting for the next thrust.

" I don't know what you're doing to me, " he said against her mouth when they began to kiss greedily again. He settling into his bed, on his knees, hovering over her. He sank back inside her slowly, the breath of her gasp tickling his lips and he found his rhythm easily, taking his time and making her writhe, rendering her speechless. Her eyes rolled shut and she thought of nothing else; nothing but his name and how good it felt to have him buried inside her.

This was reckless; she knew it was. But she couldn't stop. He was easing her mind. He was holding her like he couldn't bear to be without her. He was kissing her like his life depended on it. He was whispering her name like he needed the sound of it to breathe... She couldn't stop, and she didn't want him to either. She didn't care about how catastrophic the outcome could be. Nothing bad could come of this.

She savored every thick inch of him, crying for more when he pulled away and crying again when he slid back inside her. The way he moved, the way he was making her feel; it was all so perfect, too perfect. She sighed and opened her eyes. Rick was watching her again, blue eyes bright, a little smile on his lips. She reached up and caressed his cheek, his greying stubble gritty against her palms as she ran her tongue over his bottom lip and then kissed him roughly.

" You're beautiful, " Rick whispered with his eyes closing from her kiss. " Have I told you that? " Michonne tried to catch her breath, pulling away slightly.

" No, " she gasped when he drove his hips repeatedly, gliding in and out of her. Her head tipped back and she groaned, overwhelmed, and she immediately felt his tongue and lips on her neck.

" You're beautiful, " he said again, breath hot on her skin. " So damn beautiful. " Her eyes rolled shut and she cried out from another flawlessly angled plunge. She lost track of time and didn't speak again for what felt like hours...until once more, he coaxed his name from her lips and she sighed it again and again and again, unraveling for the only man to have ever managed to charm her so swiftly and thoroughly. And his name tasted better than anything that had ever coated her tongue...

•••

Michonne lay panting on her side, her arm across Rick's torso and her head on his chest as she tried to recover from her fourth climax in the nearly three hours. Rick pulled her closer to him, his arms snug around her glowing body.

Knowing that she had needed a good, hefty dose of him after a hard day's work made his chest puff with pride and his heart skip with flutters. He had been in need of her company as well, and being granted the gift of it without asking or expecting it was a blessing. Someone was looking out for him.

" You okay?, " he asked her gently. She smiled up at him and softly nodded. " I'm sorry, " he mumbled against her hair, stroking her skin with lazy, tired fingers. Michonne lifted her head.

" For what? Why are you apologizing? " Rick laughed nervously, cheeks pink.

" I dunno. You don't think I'm... overwhelmin' you, am I? "

" In what way? " Michonne asked, sighing with satisfaction thereafter as she rested her face in the crook of his neck. He trembled. He still couldn't get over how good it felt to have her so near again, rather than just a phone call away.

" We just met and we haven't- I can't keep my hands off you long enough to get to know you... You know... other than getting to know what makes you scream my name. " He paused to smirk. " I guess I just wanted to know how you feel about it. " He was checking up on her again. She liked that. She could get used to it easily. Michonne sat up again and met his gaze, smiling that breathtaking smile of hers, and curses nearly left his lips.

" Tell me what you want to know about me then, cowboy. And I'll let you know, " she murmured, her voice seductive and her pitch low. She looked the slightest bit weary from their strenuous activities, but ever as striking despite it. She flashed him a sexy smile and snatched his pounding heart away, and her finger found a scar on Rick's chest and she stroked it gently, glancing up at him and awaiting his inquiries. He slipped an arm behind his head and pondered, their introduction into each other's lives the previous night coming to mind first: the way she moved across the dance floor and against him.

" Hmm, where'd ya learn how to dance? " he asked. Michonne giggled. " What? "

" The first question is already of a sexual nature. I thought you wanted to divert from that, " she laughed heartily and Rick smiled, enjoying the sound of her amusement and hilarity. Michonne shook her head and blinked at him in faux disgust and he started to chuckle.

" How's that sexual? " he asked. Michonne rolled her pretty brown eyes.

" I saw the way you looked at me when I danced, " she said proudly. Rick raised a brow, reaching out and pinching her taut stomach playfully.

" You were the one tryin' to seduce me. "

" Trying? " she asked, feigning offense this time. " I succeeded. " Rick grinned.

" Just answer the damn question, please, Michonne. You're killin' me with all the suspense. " Michonne stuck her tongue out at him.

" I guess I've just always known how to dance. I took a lesson or two ages ago but I hardly recall those... I dance for me. It started as an outlet for all my stress as a teenager and I never stopped. " She shrugged. " I realized how good I looked doing it and started going out dancing when I needed to feel better. I'd just let the music take me away... but I hadn't gone dancing in _forever,_ Rick. And I never dance with anyone. Don't know what possessed me, " she said.

Rick listened to her, a thousand more questions on his mind and more forming every millisecond, with no idea which to ask her next. But he still couldn't stop thinking about how sweet her voice sounded when she sang, and the way her body writhed against his, how she gasped, the way she tasted, the look on her face when he had made her come again. And again. And again.

He bit his lip, chewing it absentmindedly. He reached up for a moment and scratched his growing beard, focusing on her words rather than her body.

" So, where are you from? " he asked. " I bet you're a city girl. " Michonne smiled.

" I am, country boy, " she teased. He didn't even have to tell her whether he was or not. She knew and it made him smile. " I was born in Savannah, but I've lived a few places in the south; in Florida and in South Carolina for a little while. I even lived in France for a few months after I graduated. Took sculpting while I was there. I went to undergraduate school in South Carolina and then to law school here in Georgia after that. "

" What school? " Rick asked, impressed already and envious of her, knowing that she was experienced and worldly and that he had only ever lived in Georgia, stuck here in Cynthiana, King Country all his life, shoveling shit as a kid, hunting with his dad as a teenager and attending the police academy as a young man. He had married his ex wife and assumed a mass of responsibilities when he was only twenty-four, while Michonne was sculpting, studying law and traipsing about France, purring the romance language and breaking hearts.

" Emory University. " She sighed, shifting against him and playing with the sprigs of his tiny chest hair. " Those were eight very demanding years of my life. " Rick's eyebrows raised.

" Eight years? Shit... " he mumbled. He couldn't even imagine being so utterly dedicated to school, and for such a long period of time. " Didn't you do anything for fun? " he asked, nonchalantly hinting at relationships and wondering who was lucky enough to have been with her then. He wondered if she would notice the hidden meaning behind his inquiry.

" I took fencing in my free time while I was there. The woman you sort of met last night, Andrea; we met at Emory, so we've been best friends ever since then. I got to spend a lot about time with her. I read books, sculpted a bit, travelled through Europe, " she told him, catching onto his hint of curiousity and replying, " And yes, I had a couple boyfriends while I was in school. Here and in France..." She trailed off for a bit, turning and grinning when she looked up at him. " I know what you were hinting at. Is someone jealous? " Rick swallowed hard, staring into her eyes.

" Kinda wish I'd met you a long time ago, " Rick confessed. Michonne was quiet for a moment and he cursed himself for saying such a thing. " You gonna ask anythang about me?" he said, shifting the focus.

" I know a lot about you, just from guessing and deduction, " she said. " But I'm just a little curious about one thing..."

" Ask me, " he replied, wondering if he was so awfully predictable or if it was only the sense of intuition he had begun to notice that Michonne so keenly possessed.

" How long were you married? " she asked, tossing her locs from obtructing her view. She stared at his lips while he spoke and then met his gaze, their eye contact intensifying. He wanted to look away but he couldn't, almost embarrassed by her question.

" About fifteen years... I was only twenty-four when I got married, " he croaked, relaying his thoughts to her.

" Wow, " she murmured and he nodded slowly.

" You're the first woman I've been with since my wife, " he blurted suddenly, wanting to punch himself in the face immediately after saying it. Michonne sat up completely, puzzled by his confession. She turned and looked down at him.

" Wait, what? " she asked. " You mean... I'm the only other woman you've slept with? Haven't you had any girlfriends? " Rick sat up as well, joining her upright stance and studying her expression. He felt flustered, his skin prickling and his ears burning as he blushed.

" Yes. One... but we didn't- we weren't intimate... Why do you look so surprised? " he asked fretfully. He chortled a hint of nervous laughter. Michonne shook her head, smiling a little.

" I just... You seem... experienced, " she murmured, touching her fingers to her lip.

" You mean...? " He motioned to the bed, the sheets and pillows haphazardly rustled and tossed about from their hours of romping. Michonne giggled.

" Yes, that's what I mean... Are you serious? " she asked, and Rick nodded sincerely. She grinned and Rick smiled back.

" Yes, I'm serious, " he replied, admiring her smile.

" Well, you fooled me, " she said, biting her lip and crawling towards him. She straddled him and pressed her naked body against his. He raised his hands, admiring and caressing her skin.

" Is that a bad thing? " he asked, almost petrified to ask. Michonne shook her head again.

" No, I'm just surprised. "

" I just... think we're really good together, " he confessed and when she did not respond: " I bet I'm better than your little college boyfriends and French lovers. " Michonne erupted into giggles again and he felt his pout intensify, but he loved the sound and wanted more.

" Rick Grimes, your jealousy is adorably charming. " He blushed harder.

" I am not jealous, " he grumbled defensively, reaching out to tickle her. She giggled some more, nodding through her laughter, and Rick tried hard not to smile, her lilting snicker endearing and contagious. It was warming him, to hear her enjoy herself, her giggles louder when he tickled her bare flesh. He sat up, wrapping his arm around her waist and turning over as she laughed. " Turn around, " he said when he was on top of her and her giggling ceased instantaneously when he made it clear that he was being serious, possessive desire deep in his voice again.

" Why? " she asked, but still turning over to lay on her stomach anyway, her body completely straight, her perfect ass in his sights. Rick positioned himself over her, caressing her skin with one hand and cupping her ass greedily, his weight propped up on his other hand, his arm tensing. She rested her cheek against his pillows so that he could look down at her face. She sighed as he began to knead her skin.

" I'm gonna make you forget about every other man that ever had you before I did, Michonne. " His whispered promise pressed to her ear, he slipped himself inside her from behind ever so slowly. She gasped as he filled her and he groaned in response when he realized how wet he had already made her. He started to move, his thrusts steady, his feet on either side of her ankles, his body aligned with hers. His weight rested on his hands placed next to her head.

" Oh... fuck, " she whimpered. Her mouth hung open, her eyes squeezing shut, and he could already feeling her tightening around him in a fluttering frenzy. He reached beneath her, finding her clit with his fingers and massaging her in rhythm with his thrusts. Michonne surrendered to him in mere minutes, crying his name into his pillows and melting into his sheets with sighs that gave him butterflies as he brushed her locs away from her face and pressed a tender kiss to her ear repeatedly.

When she recovered, he pulled out of her and collapsed beside her with no need for his own climax. Something about pleasing Michonne was so incredibly and fully satisfying. He felt calm, at peace, and he hoped he had pleased her enough to relax her and take her mind off of the things troubling her. She sat up, her expression drowsy, but she smirked at him, still gazing into his eyes with a knowing look, as though she wanted more. She stradled him, taking him by surprise.

" Aren't you tired? " Rick asked, eyeing her. He stroked her skin and thought of the dream he had of her earlier that morning, now playing out for him in real time, and he couldn't be happier- or further worn out. She reached down and grasped him firmly, running her hand over his slick length. She pressed his tip against her. His breath hitched and his eyes closed.

" A little, " she murmured, " and sore. " She began to giggle. " But I don't care. I want more of you. Don't you want more of me? "

" Y-Yes, " he choked, opening his eyes just as she slipped him inside her slowly. He was enveloped by her silky, snug warmth and a moan escaped him. " I dreamt... of you... like this... last night, " he breathed as she began to ride him. She giggled again, leaning down and closing her full lips over his. He was moony, tipsy from her kiss and the feel of her wet walls claiming him in every way; body, mind and soul.

" I just met you yesterday and you're already dreaming about me, Rick Grimes? " she whispered, smiling into their kiss. Rick was unashamed to admit it and did so again.

" Yes. I couldn't stop... thinkin' about you, " he said. She sat up and Rick stared as his dream became a reality, unfolding before his eyes. She glided over him, her hips circling and ascending and then descending and he groaned, reaching out and running his hands over her skin, marveling at the constract of his own pale flesh against her regal, brown complexion. Her flat stomach, her slender waist, the darkness of her nipples: she was undeniably breathtaking. She was the sexiest woman he had ever touched, or ever would. Her nipples begged for the attention of his mouth and he granted them their wish, sitting up and flicking his tongue over one and then the other. Michonne purred in appreciation.

She grinded against him, her eyes closed, her full lips parted. A noticeable shiver raced down her spine and he pulled her nigh, pressing her body against his, the side of his face against her sternum as he cupped her breast and ran the tip of his tongue over her nipple again slowly. He reached down and squeezed her ass greedily with his other hand, kneading her, losing himself inside her.

She leaned down suddenly, dipping her head and pressing her lips to his neck. She dusted his throat with kisses; slow, soft pecks that made him moan and it seemed as though she was searching for something. And then she found it: a spot on his neck against his pulse. She began to lick him there, sucking his skin as she rode him and quickened her pace. She bit him softly and then licked him some more, and his toes curled uncontrollably, his eyes rolling shut.

" Fuck, " he moaned. " Oh fuck, M-Michonne. " He grasped her hips, aiding her grinding and pushing her back and forth frantically, unable to control himself. " I'm not...gonna last... much longer. Come for me. " Michonne licked his neck once more, biting and sucking until he was trembling violently.

" Mmm, I had my turn already. Now it's yours, " she said in sultry whispers. He growled. He wanted to make her come again, his pleasure nothing without hers, but he wouldn't last if she kept up like that. He reached up, threading his fingers into her long, long locs and he closed his mouth around her nipple and sucked it slowly, rolling his tongue over its surface.

" Not until...you come for me, " he said again, nearly begging, holding back the eruption that laid in tingling wait.

" No, " she whispered defiantly in his ear. He groaned, sinking his nails into her skin and trying to hold on for dear life. He knew he was making the funniest of faces.

" You're so...stubborn, Michonne, " he whimpered pitifully and she rode him faster, harder, her fingers finding his curls, and when she murmured in his ear again, it was enough to make him explode.

" _Remplis-moi_ , " she purred, sucking on his earlobe and he burst, his voice trapped in his throat, his hips bucking. And then his whole body went rigid for a moment, every nerve shattering and constricting. Michonne kept gliding over his dick as he came and he realized that she was tightening around him, climaxing softly, cooing his name in his ear as he depleted himself inside her, his body jerking, his eyes squeezed shut. A cry left him and he did not recognize his own voice, surprised even more when he felt her tongue slip into his mouth. He groaned her name and just as he knew it would, it tasted so sweet. And he said it again, his hands glided over her skin in awe as he winded down, panting and kissing her back greedily. She pulled him closer, her own breathing unsteady while she slowed down.

" Shit, " he managed to say. " What'd you whisper in my ear? " She laughed softly.

" I said, 'Fill me.', " she replied. He kissed her shoulder.

" Well, you just _always_ get what you want, don't you, Michonne... Jesus," he chuckled. " I'm getting too old for all this. You're gonna kill me. " She kept giggling, her laugh low and laced with sleepiness, and Rick smiled. He turned her over, no longer inside her as he eased her back against his pillows, pulling her closer and noting that she was already drifting off to sleep. He turned off his bedside lamp and pulled his sheets over her supple body, her skin still aglow. He kissed her shoulder again.

" I'm makin' you breakfast in the mornin', " he said, just to bring her more pleasure, just to see that smile again. He inhaled her scent for the dozenth time and sighed, lifting her chin to kiss her slowly and enjoying the way she tasted.

" Mmm, " she murmured in approval when she pulled away and buried the side of her face into his pillows again. " You never finished telling me about yourself. I'm sure I don't know everything. " A little smile teased the corners of her full, fig lips.

" Alright, lemme think o' somethin', " he murmured, stifling a yawn. " My full first name is Richard, but my brother used to call me Richie..."

" Mmm, Richie. Like Richie Rich. That's adorable. I like it, " she whispered, her state of rapture making her so beautifully drowsy. " You have a brother? "

" Mmhmm. And... I've lived in King County all my damn life. Never even been outta the country... My favorite color is blue- has been since I was a kid. I play the guitar a little. I grew up on a farm around here. I like horseback ridin' and fishin'... I wanted to be a cop ever since I was little and I passed my academy exam the first time..." he trailed off, growing more weary with each murmured word. Michonne had completely exhausted him. " Can't think of anything else right now, " he said, yawning, " but I'll tell you if I do. " Michonne was so easy to talk to, and it was something Rick had never encountered before when speaking to a woman. He felt lucky, still convinced that he was dreaming of her. And he never wanted to wake up.

Rick glanced up from her blissful expression and saw something that made him jump. A flash of Jody appeared, standing over by the window and watching them angrily, and Rick was reminded of his earlier epiphany.

He had to tell Michonne. " One more thing..., " he said to her, longing to rid himself of the newest of his struggles, now weighing heavy on his chest. Somehow he knew that his declaration would not fall on judgemental ears.

" Yes?, " Michonne murmured, her eyes closed." You can tell me. "

" When I cried to you last night about the man I shot... when I realized that I'd killed him. I don't think I was crying to you outta guilt for takin' his life. " Her eyes opened in the darkness and he stared into the twinkling, black portals of her endless soul, ready to confess to her, drawn to tell her and unable to contain it.

" Why then? " she asked, their gaze intense even in the dimness, the nearly full moon providing a tiny glimmer of light in his dark bedroom. " Didn't you still feel guilty? "

" Yes, but not because I killed him..." He listened to her steady, unfettered breathing, confused by her calm. The crickets chirped and the stars winked overhead.

" Then why? Why did you cry? " she said softly, their conversation now a whispered secret as if they were both afraid that someone else would hear.

" Because... , " Rick whispered, gazing longingly at her, " Because I think...I think I _liked_ killin' him, Michonne. "

* * *

 _ **A/N: The song Michonne sang in the bathtub is called "Ce Soir" by Banda Magda. Have a listen; its one of my favorites. Here is the translation:**_

 _ **Little blue. Little red. Tonight love is painted. Black, gray. Forbidden.**_

 _ **Tonight love is painted. must try, will find you never know**_

 _ **Tonight love is painted, Tonight we painted the background**_

 _ **Our deep love. Tonight we dance all night**_

 _ **Tell me your favorite color. I find this color**_

 _ **A flower to put in my hair.**_ _ **Little blue, Little red**_

 _ **Tonight love is painted. Make me a star**_

 _ **I'll make you a sailboat. Tonight love is painted**_

 _ **Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is very much appreciated; I need the smiles after watching that sneak peek. I am in shambles.**_


	4. Chapter 4

Windchimes and songbirds made for a soft, melodious alarm to start the day. Michonne blinked herself awake leisurely, morning sunlight in her eyes and a comfortable ache throbbing deep in her muscles. Rick's arm was draped tightly about her waist, his breathing so faint in slumber that it almost seemed as if he had departed.

He moved only to inhale her scent audibly and press closer to her, his erection growing stony on the base of her ass. He shifted again slightly, groaning with discontent when she pulled away from under his heavy grasp and rose from his surprisingly cozy king sized bed. He had not given her much room or space on the right side of the mattress, crowding her personal bubble to be her big spoon and to grope her sleepily in the night. But she had never enjoyed an invasion of privacy more. Despite disliking snuggle sessions nearly all her life, being reached for in the darkness of night and pulled close like a living security blanket for none other than the tough, tactful and timid Rick Grimes was immensely flattering.

Nakedly spirited, she hummed quietly along with outside songbird, traipsing off to the bathroom in search of oral hygiene. She plucked a singular fake blue flower from a vase on the bookshelf by the door and stuck it into her hair, wedging it behind her ear as she partially closed the master bath entrance. Michonne realized that she was still humming the bath time soundtrack to yesterday's escapades, and the mere sound of a few measures left her smiling ridiculously. She turned on the shower as soon as she stopped daydreaming, heating the water to her liking under her fingertips, but she stopped abruptly to glance at herself in the mirror when a ray of light struck her skin from across the room.

She started towards the mirror, tossing her locs over her shoulder and revealing more love bites; deep purple splotches painted on her neck and collarbone, another layer now graced over the healing ones from their first night together. Michonne smiled softly at her reflection, noticing in addition that she looked extremely well-rested, her skin more radiant than ever and her eyes brighter. She felt a giggle forming. Rick seemed to be having a very unexpected, yet pleasant effect on her... even after hearing the dark confession he had whispered to her before she drifted off to sleep in his arms.

Michonne understood him wholeheartedly- without even knowing the full story and without needing to hear it all. She knew that Rick most likely didn't mean that he found immense pleasure in taking that young man's life. She knew he didn't mean that he was without remorse. He had meant that he enjoyed some of the feelings and the power that the situation gave him; the power to end one life in order to save others.

What man, deep down, didn't want to be a hero of some sort for the people around him?

And who didn't want to feel needed by those people?

Michonne was certain that the only thing that had been on Rick's mind in the midst of the chaos that unfolded that evening, was that he had a duty to help the people around him and get through it all in one piece- back to the safety of normal humdrum life and back to safety for his son's sake. Those reasons were reason enough to pull a trigger. And Michonne wasn't going to judge him for his statement... but she did have questions.

Rick entered the bathroom suddenly, drowsy and just as nude as she was. He was rubbing his eyes and groaning; walking towards her with a lazy strut, stopping behind her and wrapping his arms around the small of her waist. He kissed her shoulder gingerly and met her gaze in the mirror, blinking away the sleep in his eyes and focusing in on her displayed reflection of beauty. Early morning light poured into the bathroom and it made his eyes so vividly blue. They were twinkling and animated like the Caribbean ocean, and she was lost at sea, being dragged away, surely doomed to drown. Michonne eased closer to him, pressing her back against his chest, and his warmth and heartbeat emitting, seeping into her.

Even in the mirror, their eye contact was beyond intense, soul searching and remarkably comforting. It made Michonne feel timid for the first time in a long time. Rick's hands drifted and he caressed her skin slowly, kissing her shoulder again and moaning softly as he pressed his hot hardness against her backside. She turned in his arms and reached up, holding his face in her hands and stroking his cheeks with her thumbs.

" I'll be right back, " she whispered, unhinged by her shyness, and Rick nodded fainacai. Michonne pulled away. She took Rick's powder blue robe from its hook on the back of the bathroom door and slipped it on, leaving the master suite, descending the stairs, and finding her keys in her briefcase on the dining room table. The air outside was balmy, and but the heat was becoming heavier, and her bare feet were slightly scorched on the pavement sidewalk when she stepped off of the porch. Though she was only in a robe, Michonne was already anxious to get back inside again, perhaps relaxing under the cool pressure of a tepid shower with Rick, protected from the sweltering Georgia humidity. She retrieved her navy blue and beige overnight bag from the trunk of her Lexus sedan and slammed it shut before heading back to Rick's front door.

The sound of another car door closing behind her caused Michonne to turn her head and peer down the sidewalk to the street. A lanky, slender-armed woman with thin, tumbling brown hair shoved her bundle of keys into her two-years-out-of-style designer purse and started up the sidewalk quickly, halting in her tracks when she looked up and saw Michonne standing on the doorstep. The two women stared at each other for a long, silent moment, and then Michonne knew; she saw it in the softness of her features- in the slight wave of her brunette hair- that this woman was Rick's ex-wife and Carl's mother. Michonne turned her back as the woman began to speak, fed up with waiting and ready to be back in the comfort of air conditioning.

" Excuse me, " the woman said loudly. " Who are you? " She climbed the steps and stopped behind Michonne. Michonne turned to face her, Rick's robe slipping down a bit and revealing a bare shoulder, her cleavage gleaming in the sun. She didn't try to cover herself. Instead, she smiled.

" A very special quest to a most gracious host, " Michonne replied. The woman looked her up and down, and she appeared almost confused by Michonne as she eyed her borrowed attire suspiciously. Michonne kept a straight face, grasping the ties of Rick's robe as the fabric slipped further down her shoulder.

" I'm Lori, " the woman said, introducing herself rather reluctantly. " I need to talk to Rick, so excuse me. " Lori tried to push past her rapidly and Michonne bristled, vexed alone by this woman's uninvited attendance and even more annoyed by the fact that she had just touched her.

" You can't just walk into his house when he hasn't invited you in. He's in the shower, " Michonne told her, pursing her lips. " Can I take a message? " Lori's expression intensified to a scowl and it looked as though she had eaten something sour.

" You have no authority over who goes into his house. He does. We were married. We have a child together. I need to speak with him, " she said in a scolding tone. Michonne rolled her eyes and turned around fully.

" I am a guest. I cannot in good conscience let you walk into his home when he hasn't even let me know whether or not to invite anyone in. That's just rude. You can sit here and wait for him to finish," she replied, opening the door and leaving Lori alone in the living room without turning back to look at her. Michonne took her overnight bag upstairs with her, finding Rick in the shower already, as she had assumed he would be. Grabbing his freshly opened sspearmint toothpaste, she began to brush her teeth.

" You gonna join me in here, darlin'? " Rick called out to her, his voice echoing through the bathroom. Michonne smiled around her toothbrush, spitting into the sink and licking her bottom lip. She could see his strikingly handsome silhouette behind the shower curtain, enticing her, luring her in with mysterious quickness. Her mind went blank, with the exception of a few dirty thoughts.

" Oh, I intend to, " she murmured. She rinsed her mouth out with a scoop of water and slipped her toothbrush into the empty slot next to his, pulling the ties to his robe and unfastening it. She let it pool at her feet on the tile floor before climbing in under the pleasantly lukewarm water with her crush. He smiled down at her, setting his soap aside and wrapping his arms around her as soon as she was safe behind the curtain with him. He was covered from head to toe in slippery suds, his skin sliding against hers when he pulled her closer and bowed his tilted head to kiss her gently.

Michonne watched him as he pulled back and opened his eyes, the blue of them taking her breath away again, his long lashes charming and fluttering at her. His eyes looked sad today, a melancholy blue, and her heart constricted unexpectedly. She knew that he was dealing with a lot of emotions as of late; and contradictory ones at that. Taking a life had to be one of the most difficult things a person could experience at any given point during someone's life. She reached up and held his face in her hands again, his eyes closing at the contact. She wanted to bring him a bit of pleasure right in that moment... and then, later, she would speak to him about what he had said to her and ask him to explain it; once she made sure that he was feeling just as good as he had made her feel. She wanted him satisfied and calmed, by the touch of her hands, by the feel of her body, by the taste of her kisses.

She grabbed his soap and squeezed some out and lathered herself up, Rick reaching out eagerly towards her to help. He took the flower from her hair and tossed it over the shower curtain, his eyes never leaving hers. He lifted a hand to her face, smoothing back her long crown of hair and tucking a dreadlock behind her ear with care before finding his soap.

The touch of his rough, heavy hands as he lathered the concoction on her body made her purr like a kitten. Her eyes closed and she moaned, stepping closer to lather his body more while his hands moved to caress her ass. Michonne wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face agaist his pulse, letting him run his hands over her frame. He didn't miss a spot, every inch of her covered in bubbly, soft white suds. With her breasts, he was teasingly gentle, the feathery brushes of his fingers across her nipples making her groan from parted lips. He reserved the most sensitive places for last, one of his hands against her ass, his fingers grazing her between her cheeks, the other hand in front of her, teasing her clit softly.

Gasping, she pulled back to look at him and he leaned down all at once and kissed her hard, forcing his tongue into her mouth and moaning loudly. His fingers explored her now familiar places; the swells of each and every hill and valley, every bundle of sensitive nerves that made her coo. She melted under his skilled touch, already giving into the lust for him that resided warm and heavy where her thighs met.

Rick grabbed the shower head and turned the switch on, testing the water with his fingers before aiming it at her skin. He rinsed her clean while he bent to kiss her again, and his touch was so tender and gentle, the faintest of grazings, and yet it still aroused her. He washed the soap from her body, multitasking and kissing her until she breathless and dizzy. He then aimed the water at himself and Michonne tried to compose herself, blinking as she watched the bubbles slide off of his skin, his complexion slightly tanned from the sun with a hint of red beneath. He was blushing under her observant gaze.

She tilted forward, supporting herself on his chest to kiss him some more and sighing into his mouth; sucking his tongue while one of her hands lost its digits in his endless curls. Reaching down with her other hand, she wrapped fingers around his rigid cock, squeezing him until he shuddered in her palm. His glimmering wet pink lips parted and he groaned loudly, his eyes rolling shut, his hand fisting in her hair, and his fingers wrapped around her locs as she ran her hand over his length slowly. She could feel his pulse; the warmth of his blood rushing there, and by the look on his face, she was treading those dangerous, risky waters again, uncaring, and she had him in the palm of her hand- quite literally. Michonne smiled against his moaning mouth, enjoying the power she temporarily had over him with the sweetness of his kisses added on.

He swallowed hard and opened his eyes, his lashes fluttering, his lids heavy, the rate of his breathing unsteady. She ran her thumb over the tip of him, precum making her teasing slippery and unbearable. He trembled sharply again.

" M-Michonne... Mm-Mm. Fuck, " he muttered, the barked curse clipped, his timbre seasoned with a note of heated and defeated desperation. " Please. Don't tease me. " Michonne smirked, amused and aroused by his will to remain well-mannered and still teasing him anyway. He bent and kissed her sheepishly, his lips lightly brushing hers, his cheeks and neck flushing further. His breathing turned heavy hastily and he reached for her, surprising her with a roughness of the hands that made her center ache. " Turn around, " he instructed in that threatening tone, his drawl thick and heavy and echoing around them and she complied, letting him turn her sharply until her ass was pressed against his excited erection. He held her there tightly, fed up with her baiting, and he began to run a line of kisses over her shoulder and down her neck, his fingers finding her slick, ready petals. He parted her slowly, gently, running his fingertip over her clitoris until she gasped and shivered.

Her eyes fluttered closed. He was driving her crazy already, and easily getting back at her for her teasing. Her legs were beginning to shake in such pitifully obvious display that she pouted, and when his other hand found her breast and he tweaked her nipple mercilessly, she nearly fell apart in his hands.

" Fuck me, " she demanded icily, squirming from the pleasant discomfort of it all and all Rick did was chuckle against her skin.

" See, it's not a lot of fun, now, is it? " he whispered. She wiggled and ground her slippery behind into him, lifting her hand to weave her fingers into his hair and pull at his wet curls. Her own fit of moaning sounded so unlike herself, but she ignored it, wanting only to focus on how good Rick could make her feel. He groaned in response to her mewling, clearly enjoying the sound of it, and he took a step back, pressing his back to the wall of his shower and pulling her against him. He adjusted his hips behind hers and wrapped his arms around her from behind. Michonne pressed closer to him, trusting his sturdiness and letting him lead. She was prepared to let him fuck her senselessly... as she knew he would.

" This is just like when we danced... on Friday night, " Rick said in her ear, his drawl throaty and sending another shiver down her spine. " Remember? With you up against me like this. " She arched her back and then she felt him, hovering there, hot and throbbing against her entrance and she kept forgetting not to hold her breath.

Of course she remembered. She was never going to forget how adorably goofy he looked that night as he danced with her, so handsome and awkward all at once, his enticing blue eyes timid and soft on hers and his tempting cock bold and hard on her ass. Their dance had been the first positive and uplifting moment for Michonne in months, and it was the first time she had met a cute stranger in a bar; one that she allowed to touch her intimately and enter her secret garden within an hour of their first kiss. She would not soon forget it. It sounded like such a bawdy fairytale.

" Except we weren't naked and soaking wet and I wasn't- ohhh, fuck. " She tried to finish her sentence but her words came out in a singsong moan when she felt Rick slip inside her with tantalizing and agonizing slowness, filling her to the hilt and then withdrawing nearly all the way only to plunge deep inside her again.

And again.

And again. " Oo-Ooo-h...," she whimpered. She felt ridiculous carrying on the way she was, but, goddamn, he was getting _really_ good at satisfying her. She was already starting to come undone. Rick held her tiny waist with both hands as fucked her, pushing her back and forth on his cock, moaning in her ear at the feel of her warm, dripping walls gripping him and squeezing him. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, her locs against his face, and he closed his eyes, finding his rhythm and pumping away inside her. " _Yes_ , Rick, don't stop, " she encouraged in a throaty moan. He fucked her faster and made her cry out, her nails sinking into his thighs as she went lightheaded. She pressed her hands against the opposite wall before her for support, standing on her tiptoes and pushing back against him, matching his thrusts perfectly.

A now familiar fire stirred deep inside her and it was burning hotter, melting and pooling and aching between her thighs. She couldn't hold on. Perhaps on another day she could hold on for just a little bit longer, but every cell was coming alive under his strong, calloused hands and Michonne realized that Rick was beginning to discover every secret place on her body that made her groan; the places he could touch that made her cream and shiver violently. Places that had somehow gone unnoticed by the men she had been with before, ignored and aching to be caressed... tickled... and licked.

And Rick had unearthed every hidden little region, her body blossoming beneath his hands like an ethereal flower, eager for its bloom.

He kissed a neglected spot along her hairline, his lips tickling her behind the ear.

Sweeps of his hot, mischievous tongue teased her neck in places she had never felt a tongue.

Flicks and caresses of the thumbs ran slowly over her nipples, followed by spectacular tweaks that set trapped groans in her throat free.

His fingers were steady yet soft, circling against and around her clitoris in a relentless dance.

Michonne wanted to cry. Or die. Or both. Her eyes began to roll back and her mouth fell open with a quiet gasp, another choked sound leaving her lips before ecstasy could swoop in and take over her altogether. She could do nothing in that moment but accept that she would soon surrender herself completely, knowing that it was fate- that she needn't deny herself something that felt so fucking _right_. She waited for it; she wanted it. She _n_ _eeded_ it. And before she noticed, before she could catch herself, she began to come apart in his hands, his cock still pumping inside her maddeningly, his most intimate parts tapping against her ass in such an animalistic way that she took immense pleasure from its lewdness, the warm, rushing water beating down over them all the while.

" Fuck, I'm so close, " she whimpered, in an attempt to warm him, to ask for his support as her toes curled and she started to lose control. She could hardly keep standing and the water raining down above them trickled into her eyes and stuck to her lashes, cascading to fall into her parted lips and down her chin to slide where it pleased. Her nipples sang from the steamy stroke of gliding drops coursing down her skin. And more warm water followed, caressing her everywhere, exactly the way Rick was caressing her.

" M-me... too, " he moaned after her. He wrapped his left arm around her snugly, his hand splayed out and coming to rest on her cheek, his forearm pressed against her heart. He pulled her even closer to him, flush with his chest, and the rhythm of his thrusts somehow never faltered.

 _How is he so good at this?_ she thought, sighing out a musical mewl and closing her eyes again. His other hand stayed between her thighs, his fingers drawing slow, slippery circles over her clit repeatedly. She couldn't remember the last time her clitoris was ever given so much flawless attention. Michonne grew wetter just thinking about it. Despite her attempts to prepare herself, she fell over the edge so forcefully that she cried out his name, her body jerking with pleasure, every cell alive and sparking fiercely, and he fucked her through it, prolonging her climax until he had left her speechless, her mouth open and her eyes rolling back in her head. The sounds he made in response to her creaming for him let her know that his release was only seconds away.

And it only turned her on more.

" Come for me, " she managed to whimper, still pushing back against him, coaxing his orgasm from him with forceful, advancing buns in plummeting jiggles. Rick moaned in lustful retort, in awe, inspiring him to quicken his pace until his grip on her waist tightened and she felt his cock stiffen and jerk inside her uncontrollably.

He choked out a low cry and murmured her name, his thrusts rough and shaky, as though he was overwhelmed, and his grunts were wild and loud as he spilled himself deep inside her. She felt every hot spurt of his long-awaited cum mingle with her own, traces dripping down her walls and thighs. Michonne leaned back and pressed the back of her wet body to the front of his, and they came down from their gloriously shared exhilaration together, panting in tandem and smiling to themselves. Even being naughty and absolutely filthy with him couldn't bring her an ounce of shame. They were way too perfect of a match for that to get in the way.

" Fuck, " Rick whispered when he had recovered enough to murmur praise, and Michonne let out a breathy giggle. He turned her in his arms with authoritative hands and their lips connected in a sloppy kiss, eyes meeting with a moan.

She stared back at him, brown boring into blue as their tongues flirted dangerously, and she noticed that there was a spark in his darkened turquoise eyes now, and the healthy, glowing flush of his skin had returned. Michonne smiled against his mouth at the realization that, indeed, she had brought him enough pleasure to leave him less troubled than he had appeared to be when he awoke.

She was having that pleasant effect on him as well.

Rick caressed her backside and kissed her with conviction, pulling away only to smile down at her in response to her own grin.

" What? " he asked, kissing her shoulder when she turned away to rinse herself off once more.

" Nothin', " she purred, but he could still see her smiling softly. " Are you still making me breakfast? " she asked. Rick chuckled, sweeping her locs away to kiss her neck and shoulder tenderly.

" Even if I wanted to say no to you for some reason, I don't think I could refuse you, " he confessed. Michonne smirked and ran her wet hands over her dreads. At least she wasn't the only one giving in so easily.

" I like pancakes, " she informed him nonchalantly. Rick laughed softly again.

" Luckily, I make a mean short stack. A pancake breakfast...," he replied. " As you wish. "

•••

When Michonne finally managed to tear her eyes away from the tempting, hard body of robing Rick while he searched for an outfit of his own in the nude, Michonne changed into the clothing she had brought along with her in her overnight bag. She adorned a tight pair of skinny midwash blue jeans with small grommets and leather ties along the legs, and a dark, blood red spaghetti strap tank top with ample opportunity for cleavage. She finished making herself up and accessorizing before Rick had even decided on a shirt, and she descended the staircase with a silly smile on her face.

Entering the living room, Michonne spotted Lori on the cream-coloured couch, her back turned and her gaze fixed outside. The only window in the living room illuminated her profile, yellowing her copperbrown hair and pale skin. Michonne could smell the rich scent of coffe. in the air, and she glanced into the kitchen to find a fresh pot steaming in its designated spot on the countertop. She covered her smile as she passed and strutted towards her morning caffeine fix, shocked that she wasn't paranoid about drinking this stranger's brew.

" Rick will be down in a minute," she announced to Lori, smirking and retrieving a midnight blue King County Sheriff Department mug from a cabinet overhead.

" I made coffee," Lori said, not turning to face her.

" Mhm," Michonne murmured absentmindedly in reply, pouring herself a cup and searching for the sugar. She liked her coffee dark and just a _little_ sweet, very much like herself.

Michonne felt the urge to giggle. A part of her had completely forgotten that Lori was downstairs when she and Rick were in the midst of their morning session. She wondered how much Lori had heard. No matter the amount the woman did hear, Michonne didn't really care. She didn't have anything to hide, yet alone be bashful about, but she did wonder how Rick would react to his ex-wife being in his home and listening in on him making loud, lavish love to another woman. " Speak of the devil," Michonne muttered around a sip of hot coffee. She could hear Rick descending the stairs.

" Hey, Michonne," he called out from down the hallway, his deep drawl booming through the house and the 'O' sound in her name drawn out by that sexy southern accent of his.

His mouth always made love to her name. He rolled his tongue around it, brushed his lips over it. He took his time saying it.

He continued to speak, entirely unknowing of Lori's unexpected presence. " I've been meanin' to ask you somethin' relatin' to the fact that we both know I ain't been too careful these past couple'a days but... I can easily and unashamedly admit to you that I hope you're on some kinda birth control because I _really_ look forward to you stickin' around so I can make you scream my name some more and hear you beggin' me to fill you up with my c-"

" Rick! " Michonne chided loudly, choking on a bit of her coffee as she erupted into a fit of laughter. Lori turned sharply, her face beet red with embarrassment and she stood quickly, looking as though she wanted to flee. But before she could, Rick appeared in the arched entrance of the living room, wearing his usual black jeans and a crisp white tee, his hair wet and stuck to his forehead. And when he spotted Lori, he too began to blush profusely over his statement, while Michonne giggled behind her hand in the kitchen.

" Lori... Hi, I um...," Rick stammered. " Well, fuck." He turned to glance at Michonne, his expression changing for a moment when their eyes met, and he smiled softly at her, making her heart faintly flutter. He didn't seem the slightest bit upset. " Thanks for the warning," he said, obviously teasing her. Michonne smiled back.

" I'm going to sit outside on the porch if you two need to talk," Michonne offered as Rick's eyes scanned her frame in her jeans and form-fitting tank. He met her gaze again, eyes filled with lust and admiration... and something else.

" You don't need to d-" he started, clearly wanting Michonne nearby, but Lori cut him off.

" That'd be great," she said without even glancing in Michonne's direction. Rick's eyes followed Michonne as she walked to the front door. She winked at him before leaving and he grinned back before turning his attention back to his very rude and very humiliated ex-wife.

As Michonne sat in the rocking bench on the porch and sipped her coffee, she listened to the birds and the muffled pair of voices for awhile. The sound carried easily through the glass of the window behind her. She heard the name of Rick's son mentioned quite a few times and the final instance it was uttered, she heard Rick's booming voice in the form of an angry exclamation. When he spoke, it shook the walls. It made her heart jump and she pressed her thighs together.

" I can't live like this anymore, Lori!," she heard him exclaim. " You can't just keep comin' over here to bother me. This is what you complained about before; that I didn't talk to you and now here I am doin' exactly that and the only way you respond is by threatening my relationship with my son. Carl's gonna keep coming here every other weekend. We've already discussed this in depth. And he's meetin' Michonne, too, and I'm gonna talk to him about what happened on Friday because he needs to know. He's hardly a kid anymore. You can't keep babying him. He needs to hear it!"

Suddenly, the front door opened and Lori exited in a whirlwind of flying copper hair and blue flannel fabric, past Michonne to stand on the edge of the steps. She turned briskly to glare back at Rick as he stood brazenly at the front door and waited for her to leave.

" I _cannot_ believe you're yelling at me. That's a first. But I will not bring Carl over here if you're going to tell him about what happened in such great detail; the way you usually do. It will terrify him! " Lori paused to send what she thought was a menacing glower in Michonne's direction. " And I should have listened to Jessie, too. She told me there might be a strange woman over here and I just didn't believe her. I will not have my son in this house with you if she's here. I don't need him to hear the ridiculous way you two carry on."

A long silence followed. Michonne wanted to laugh. It, indeed, was a ridiculous way to carry on, but by the tone in her rebuke, Lori was jealous, envy evident in her sour-faced frown, and it made Michonne's lips twitch in amusement. However, in the moment, she could still feel heat forming in the air surrounding them, and she couldn't tell if it was her own anger or Rick's, for she knew another part of her was genuinely pissed off, but the atmosphere was beginning to boil past the point of comfort or control. When Michonne realized how upset Rick looked, his cheeks bright pink and his eyes dim blue, she decided she should speak up in order to save him the trouble. It was her turn now.

" Look, I don't give a shit what you or this... Jessica think about me. That's none of my fucking concern. If Rick wants me to be around, I'll probably be here. But I can tell you one thing for certain. If you break _any_ of your custody ruling with the court and with Rick in regards to your son, there are consequences. " Lori was taken aback by her reply and stepped towards her. Michonne stood and faced her confidently.

" Who the hell do you think you are? This is none of your business, " Lori squeaked, obviously a bit threatened and growing more frustrated by the second while cool, calm and collected Michonne took a determined step towards her, steaming coffee still in hand. She kept her tone light. She was not one to thrive off of silly conflict but she wasn't about to listen to Rick's right to see his son be threatened in her presence, professionally or casually. She couldn't tolerate it.

" An attorney, first and foremost, " Michonne responded coldly and boldly. " Family law and child custody are practices I am well-versed in, so believe me when I tell you that if you break any of your custody ruling, I'll advise Rick to speak with his attorney. And then _you_ will hear from Rick's attorney. You could consider it a warning of sorts... and if it continues, the ruling can be appealed. You know that, right? I could get a very good friend of mine to do it instead. If you try to deny Rick his right to see his son when it's been ruled that he spend every other weekend with him, you just may lose custody of Carl entirely. Now I'm sure you don't want that, do you?"

Lori was speechless for a lingering moment and the trio was silent. Finally, her breath came out in labored huffs and her eyes filled with tears. She stood there, fiddling with her keys and purse in hand, mouth twisted into a frown like a scolded toddler.

" No," Lori croaked in admission. She turned to face Rick and she swallowed hard before she spoke again. " Fine. I'll bring him by on Friday night. Six, as usual. " Rick bit the inside of his lip and nodded curtly towards Lori in thanks.

" And Michonne'll be here on Friday night to meet him," Rick added, prompting a deepening of her scowl. And with that, Lori turned on her heel and stomped down the steps, rushing to her station wagon and peeling away from the curb as Rick and Michonne watched her leave. " There you have it, " Rick scoffed. " The mother of my child. How on Earth did I get so lucky? " he finished sarcastically, Lori's brakes still squeeling. " Thanks, " he added in regards to her help. " You handled that better than I would've. " Michonne smiled up at him sympathetically, tilting her head as she approached him to wrap her arms around his neck and sweep his curls away from his forehead.

" Everything okay? " she asked, showing her obvious concern. His eyes met hers, the wrinkles of frustration still set on his brow. He shook his head, his curls tumbling, one ringlet falling back into his field of vision. Michonne tucked it away again.

" She asked about the man I killed on duty. I haven't seen it, but it's all over the news. Carl's been watchin' it and it scares him to think about me killin' somebody but.. when I get the chance to see him this coming weekend, I'm gonna talk to him about it. He needs to hear my point of view." Rick blinked and looked down, sheepishly wrapping an arm around her waist.

" I agree... Anything else? " Michonne further inquired, sensing his restraint. He exhaled and met her gaze again.

" Yesterday morning after you left, my ex-girlfriend came by and just... unlocked my front door. Just walked in like she owned the fuckin' place. She came into my room and saw your thangs there and kinda freaked out. She was pissed. She's convinced we're supposed to 'work things out'," he said, adding finger quotes for dramatic effect. He guided Michonne back inside his home and closed the door behind them, the cold air conditioning provided relief from the already sweltering summer morning heat.

" Jessica, or whatever, right? " Michonne asked with a wave of her hand. As if she needed to worry about him being interested in another woman when he was following closely behind her that she could feel him watching her every move. Rick laughed.

" Yeah, somethin' like that. Hopefully she wont show up here again. Lori either since they both know you're here. But I don't wanna talk about them. I wanna talk about you... You're the only woman I want in my house. " He smiled crookedly and Michonne raised a brow.

" Really?" she asked and Rick nodded, his hands on his hips and that sexy smile still tugging at the corners of his pink lips.

" Besides, I don't make pancakes for just anyone. Consider yourself lucky, especially since you let me walk down here talking about birth control and my constant cravin' to make you cum. " This remark intrigued her. Michonne approached him and let her hands fall against him to rest on his chest. She picked away imaginary lint and counted the beats of his beautiful heart.

" Constant? " she asked, smiling up at him. Hearing him admit these things aroused her curiosity. She wondered what kinds of things about her drifted through his mind.

" Yes, " he admitted, a firm hand finding her backside and squeezing. She nearly moaned. " It's easily becoming my favorite thang to do," he murmured, his voice so low that she could feel its vibration between her thighs. The way he was looking at her made her wet, and her dampened panties began to stick to her skin. " But, I promised to make you breakfast so we'll have to wait a little while before I get my chance to do it again. "

" I can wait, " Michonne said, only half believing herself; sensing that Rick was challenging her as well as himself. He kissed her softly and pulled away to saunter into the kitchen, barefoot and bowlegged; walking that stupid walk of his she liked so much. He would fit perfectly into her plans for the day.

" So can I... but we'll see who gives in first, " he replied, opening the cabinets in his kitchen to retrieve the ingredients to make pancakes from scratch, which was quite impressive on his part. " But first..." he said, flashing another handsome smile and scratching at his beard. " a pancake breakfast just for you."

" Today is my only day off until Friday, y'know, " she told him after a comfortable silence and a few more sips of coffee.

" Work?, " Rick asked, and she could tell that he looked disappointed, trying and failing miserably to hide his dismay. She could already tell he was going to miss her and it made her heart clench and her lips curve up into a smile.

" Yeah. And, Rick...? " she added. He opened the refrigerator and took out the milk and eggs, glancing towards her for a moment.

" Yeah, darlin'?, " he replied and the endearing name made her smile widen.

" I _am_ on birth control, by the way, " she finished, and the eggs tumbled from his hands. He juggled them hilariously, grasping at them in an attempt to catch them all as they fell and cracked on the tile floor. Michonne started giggling again. " We'll definitely see who gives in first, " she murmured, and she knelt to help a blushing Rick rid the floor of egg yokes and broken shells. " And it won't be me. " Rick smiled crookedly.

" Don't be so sure of yourself, Michonne... , " he said, raising a greying, unkempt brow. " I love a challenge. "

•••

Watching Michonne devour the fluffy, buttermilk pancakes set before her was far more entertaining than Rick originally thought it would be. A sweet moan left her lips often as she forked each morsel of sticky, syrupy goodness into her waiting mouth and licked away the remnants.

" Enjoying yourself?, " Rick teased watching her tongue move to lick some syrup from her top lip. He wanted to taste her mouth, to feel her sticky lips and her sweet tongue on his.

" Mmm, yes, " she replied, eating another bite. He smiled a little.

" Are they really that good? " he asked, poking at his food with his fork. He hadn't eaten a single bite. " I haven't tried them yet... Not very hungry... " His voice trailed off and when he glanced up at her again, she was eyeing him curiously.

" You okay? " Michonne asked, setting her fork down on one of the blue placemats. Rick nodded and looked away, only to slightly jump in his seat, startled when he caught sight of Jody standing in front of the living room window, glaring at him with his one eye, inards still oozing and staining the carpet. " Rick? " Michonne's hand caressed his face and it gave him another fright, causing him jump again. Her nearness had gone unnoticed and her touch made him turn his attentions to back her.

" What? Oh. Yeah. I-I'm fine." He stammered his answer and met her gaze, her eyes warm and honey brown in the bright light of the morning sun. She did not look convinced. And Rick realized he wasn't going to be able to hide things from her without being found out. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to look away again as she stood before him, but her finger guided his bearded chin update and she lifted his face, forcing him to meet her eyes.

" Do you see him?" she asked matter of factly, as though she already knew the answer, and Rick blinked in astonishment, opening his mouth to speak and then snapping it closed again. " You see him... don't you? " she prodded. He tried to flee. He felt compelled to reply; to tell her... but he didn't want to admit it aloud- not to her. She would without a doubt think that he was insane. How was he to tell her casually that he was seeing the man he had killed.

 _Everywhere_.

He had not slept. Rick had spent the night wrapped around Michonne, listening to her murmur in her sleep and relishing the sound of her breathing. And Jody stood all the while by the bedroom window, watching them, scowling at them, scornful eyes burning into him. Rick only felt better when he was buried deep inside Michonne or when his lips were pressed gently to her, anywhere, and her arms were around him, but nothing else seemed to work- to alleviate the symptoms of regretful relief. And eating definitely wasn't going to help either.

" Yes, " Rick replied suddenly, before he knew the word was leaving his lips. Michonne stepped closer, her fingers slipping deeper into his hair. He had discovered in the recent days how much that gesture calmed him, and he closed his eyes and basked in the comfort of her touch.

" Have you slept?" she inquired further, still caressing his scalp, and Rick shook his head softly, waiting for her response and anticipating the negativity he thought might accompany it. " Look at me," Michonne demanded, and Rick lifted his eyes and waited patiently for her to speak. " You are aware that you may have a mild form of PTSD... right? " He blinked and thought about the possibility of the theory for a second, distracted by her restless, relaxing hand in his curls.

" I wouldn't deny that," he replied shyly, looking away.

" Are you going to see a doctor? Or a therapist?" she continued, her voice full of corcern that genuinely surprised him. He shrugged.

" Tomorrow, I'll go back to work... They'll give me a hearing test. I'll write up and prepare my full statement and speak to my department's lawyer. Or mine. Whichever. And then I suppose I'll talk to the welfare counselor. Even though I'm one of the few deputies, they may not let me return to work patrol for awhile. Especially once they're able to see what kind of condition I'm in..." Rick timidly lifted a hand and rested it in her thigh, stroking her over her jeans. It felt nice to have a woman around that worried about him, especially a woman like Michonne.

" You don't seem too enthusiastic about speaking to a welfare counselor," she said, smiling a little. " But you should... and it's mandatory, isn't it? " Rick nodded and licked his lips.

" Yeah, I know. Don't worry, " he whispered, even though that was exactly what he wanted; for her to worry about him some more. " I'll go. "

" Good..." She paused. " I think it'll really help but... you know there's nothing wrong with you for seeing things...people, " she told him. " It happens. " He nodded in understanding again. " And what you said last night-. "

" I didn't mean that," Rick interjected quickly, searching her eyes and praying silently that he had not offended or frightened her. Much to his surprise, Michonne shook her head.

" I think a part of you did. But don't worry, Rick, you haven't scared me away yet. " He felt his eyes grow wide. How did she do that? It was almost as if she could read his mind. " You aren't the first person I've met that has admitted something like that to me. And you aren't the first person I've known that sees things that aren't there," she murmured, her voice low and somber. Rick watched her rise to her feet, tilting his head as he thought about the way she had uttered the latter confession.

He could imagine the kinds of people she encountered and represented as a criminal defense attorney, and perhaps throughout life. Perhaps there were people even crazier than himself out there. There had to be. " Everyone's a little crazy," Michonne finished, clarifying his assumptions without even knowing. Damn, she was perceptive. Rick continued to be blown away by her. " We can talk about it some more later if you want, okay? But for now, I think you should get out of the house for a while. We should get on the road. I'm not spending my entire Sunday in bed with you," she murmured with a slow, sexy smile.

" Okay," Rick chuckled, grinning back a little and standing to clear the table. " Lead the way. I'll go anywhere 'long as I'm with you. " Michonne's smile broadened at his statement and she walked into the kitchen, setting her plate down in the sink and hurriedy slipping on her boots by the front door soon after. She was more than excited about the potential benefits that came with spending an entire day out and about with Officer Rick Grimes. " You wanna drive?" Rick asked her, piling up the last few plates in the sink and running lukewarm water over them. He sensed a mysterious air about Michonne during their discussion, and he had a feeling she might be hiding something about herself. He was curious, but he wasn't going to force it out of her. He would give her time.

" Yeah," Michonne replied with a grin, fiddling with the jingling keys in her hand as Rick made his way to the foyer and met her at the front door. He tugged on his worn cowboy boots and reached for the only hat on the hooks nearby.

" Good," he said, smirking at her, and she watched his charming cheeks go pink beneath his beard, and his wrinkles set in deeply about his sky blue eyes. He adorned his thick, chocolaty curls with his sheriff's hat and moved into position, placing his hand on the small of her back like it was second nature. " 'Cause I see thangs. "

•••

Rick couldn't recall the last time he had witnessed a sight as beautiful as Michonne on horseback.

He had watched her while she drove them through the Georgia countryside, drinking in her breathtaking profile, classical music and easy listening played softly from the radio as the soundtrack for his ogling. Along the way, they came to a long stretch of dusty road, and a welcoming 'Greene Farm' sign shortly thereafter, and it appeared then that they had made it to her intended destination.

After Michonne introduced him to the owners of the land: a white-haired man with kind eyes named Hershel and his soft-spoken wife, Annette. Small talk had never been more genial and pleasant for Rick, and already he liked the old little home and hospitable family in it. The nostalgic taste of iced tea and the promise of a comforting rocking chair on the porch nearly lured him in, but when he exited the farmhouse and saw stunning Michonne, standing out in the field with the butterflies, he changed his mind indisputably.

He and Michonne then walked hand in hand to ready a pair of horses. The two adorable modes of transportation for the day were named Butterscotch and Buttons, and Rick and Michonne mounted the saddles to set out on an afternoon adventure.

" So, how do you know the Greene's? " Rick asked finally when they had been silent for miles, He had allowed her to take the lead so that he could enjoy both the view of her and of the Georgian countryside. Michonne giggled softly in response to his question, and he realized that the sound was even sweeter outdoors.

" Maggie got into a bit of legal trouble awhile back for running over some schoolboy's fancy car with a tractor. When Schoolboy's family pressed charges against her for reckless driving and attempted murder, Hershel found me through some friends. Everyone usually hears very good things. So, I represented her and somehow got her off. Emotional distress from a breakup, I claimed. " Michonne chuckled and shook her head. " Maggie's family was eternally grateful and since they told me that I could come by whenever I pleased to ride their horses on their farm, I befriended them and took up on the offer... They're good people." Rick laughed softly.

" A tractor, huh? " he asked and Michonne nodded.

" Maggie's not a woman you wanna fuck with. I like her," she replied.

" You help a lot of people out because of your job, don't you? , " Rick questioned, admiration in his baritone.

" A lot of people get into legal trouble, so yes, I suppose I do. " Rick hesitated before his next reply, readjusting his hat and digging his booted heels into the horses flanks to catch up to her again. She had stopped beneath a tree to admire the faraway cityscape of Atlanta in the sweltering, hazy distance, wiping sweat from her already gleaming skin, her necklace winking at him in the brilliant sunlight.

Even in the shade, the sun loved her skin. Her complexion drank its rays and reflected all the rest, bouncing off of her and nearly blinding him. She glowed. Michonne reached up and swept her locs away from her face, the beads in her hair glinting, her shoulders revealed, striking and kissable. She turned and smiled, dazzling him even more and he smiled back as his horse joined hers beneath the only tree in a vast field that stretched around them for miles to see. After they had enjoyed the view in silence for a while, Rick spoke again.

" Can I ask you somethin'," he wondered aloud.

" Hm? " she replied, not turning away from the vista, her hand suddenly on her necklace. She grasped the "M" and pressed it to her lips, twirling the pendant slowly.

" If Lori tries to appeal the custody case and take Carl from me... will you help me? " he whispered, his voice as low as the wind, his head bowed slightly, almost in reverence. Michonne turned to face him, a faint scowl on her brow and lips.

" You want me to represent you? " she asked and Rick nodded. " But I don't practice family law and child custody right now, Rick. I work in criminal defense. My firm wants me there and it's where I want to be the most. " The former portion of her statement confused him.

" But... earlier you said that- I'm sorry. I guess I misunderstood you, darlin', " Rick murmured. " I thought you said you knew a lot about it- . " Her gorgeous scowl deepened and his mouth snapped shut in an instant.

" I do, Rick, but it's not because I practice it. It's for another reason... I can give you legal advice but I can't represent you in a child custody case," she muttered, turning away. " And besides, it would be a severe conflict of interest. " She finished with an icy period. Michonne was upset. And Rick was certain he had done something to upset her.

" Oh. I'm sorry, Michonne, " he apologized. " I just... I'm just real worried about Carl, I guess. I didn't mean to bother you with all my questions. Just curious about ya... How'd you come to know so much about family law and child custody then? Just something you picked up on? I can really tell you like kids. " She turned back towards him sharply, her vivid brown eyes aflame and filled to the brim with tears and the sight of her in such a manner shook him to the core.

She looked so beautifully terrifying, and for the first time he felt fear and noticed all at once a sorrow in her eyes that she had never revealed. His heart constricted violently, and just when she looked as though she wanted to speak, she changed her mind. Michonne dug her heels into Butterscotch's flanks, taking off and leaving Rick to call out after her as she fled, her locs flying behind her and her ass bobbing in the air. " Shit. Shit! Michonne! I'm sorry! Shit... Fuck. Wait for me! "

With a snap of the reins, he took off after her, wind whipping under his hat and through his hair. He chased her until she disappeared into the distance and still he followed, unable to deny that he was worried sick about her. Even if she wanted to be alone for a while, he couldn't bear the thought.

What had he said to upset her? Could he help? He had to find her.

Rick searched the Greene's farm for nearly an hour before he saw her again, past another dense field, her face among a family of trees, and she was a sight for sore eyes. Rick forced Buttons into a gallop until he could stop at her side, drawn to her like a moth to light in a sea of darkness. And he couldn't believe how much he had missed her in her short absence. Surely that said something... but he wasn't positive about what that might be. He just knew that it hurt to not have her near.

When he caught up to her, he was beyond relieved, and he approached her gently, praying not to startle or disturb her. She sat still atop Butterscotch's saddle, in the midst of reaching above her head to pluck a peach from a nearby tree.

" What was it like...?" she asked him abruptly when he had settled in beside her and had begun to watch her closely.

" What was what li-?"

" What was it like to kill that man, Rick? I want to know. Tell me what it felt like. " Rick was stunned by her question. He still didn't understand why she had run off.

" I - um, " Rick stammered. Michonne finally turned and met his gaze and her eyes burned into his. He could read a thousand things unspoken in those fetching, fiery eyes and he swallowed hard as she silently pleaded with him. He turned away, her stare far too intense, and he exhaled loudly. " I told you, Michonne. I liked it. Silly as it sounds, I liked being the man that saved everybody that day. "

" But tell me what you _felt_... I want to hear you say it," she murmured.

" A rush of everything. Power. Adrenaline. Fright. Intrigue. And then, nothing. And then nothing but relief. And then everythang again. For once in my life, I felt like I had helped someone. Someone needed me. I felt like I had finally done something _right._ " And his last statement caused her let out a loud, shaky breath. She reached for her necklace again, tugging at it as her warm brown eyes filled with tears.

" It feels nice to be needed..." she said, blinking the tears away and turning to gaze at the trees again. " Doesn't it? And to do something scary that actually feels right for once. " Rick's heart swelled and he reached for her hand, their fingers intertwining between them as their horses swayed back and forth. If it upset her, he didn't want to pry, but he ached to know what had caused her such distress. Surely, it was something he had said. There was so much enigma in the spaces between her words. Michonne was such a mysterious woman. Rick wanted to know everything about her; wanted to feel everything she felt.

" It does feel nice, " he replied understandingly. " It's been a long time since I felt needed. "

" Me too, Rick," she whispered back, still gazing off into the distance and dragging the golden 'M' back and forth across her quivering lips. " Me too."

•••

After they spent another quiet hour together on horseback at the Greene Farm, Rick drove Michonne back to his house, taking her place behind the wheel and giving her a break. She remained quiet for the entire drive, and befitting enough, fate played another ironic soundtrack on the radio for their current situation, and Rick wondered if it was just a strange coincidence that kept happening, or if it meant something. He turned the music up and reached for Michonne, his hand on her thigh for the majority of the ride.

 _Walking out the door this morning  
Wondering what it is that's going on with you, on with you  
Thinking of a way to say I'm sorry  
For something that I'm not sure I do, sure I do  
_

 _So come on baby, let me in  
And show me what this really is  
_

 _'Cause something must have made you say that  
What did I do to make you say that to me?  
Something must have made you so mad  
What can I do to make you stay_

 _come back to me_ ** _  
_**

Rick squeezed her leg gently and tried to draw her gaze, his heart racing in his throat and his blood tingling through his veins. Running his thumb over her jean-adorned leg, he managed to conjure up a quick glimmer of a smile. But as soon as it had appeared, it was gone again, barely there to begin with, and Rick's heart stopped and sank into his chest. He cursed himself for opening his big mouth and saying something that had bothered her mood so drastically. He would never forgive himself if he didn't make it up to her. The rhythm of the music and the lyrics to the song brought tears to his eyes and made him ache somewhere odd.

 _Hoping for a moment that I turn around  
And you'll be coming after me, after me  
'Cause all that I can say is that it's obvious  
It's obvious you're all I see, all I see  
_

 _So come on, baby, let me in  
And show me what this really is about  
_

 _'Cause I can't read you  
Come on baby, let me in  
And show me what this really is  
_

 _'Cause something must have made you say that  
What did I do to make you say that to me?  
_

 _Something must have made you so mad_

 _What can I do to make you say 'come back to me'?  
'Come back to me'  
And I'll be here in the morning if you say 'stay'  
If you say 'stay' to me, oh_

 _Something must have made you say that_  
 _What did I do to make you say that to me?_  
 _Something must have made you so mad_  
 _What can I do to make you say 'come back to me'?_

All Rick wanted was to please her; to hear her voice with tones of warmth and approval again. What could he do to bring her back from her tortured thoughts? What could he do to help her open up to him? The only probable solution seemed to be patience, and if that's what it took, he would wait for her to feel ready and willing to share her past and her truth with him.

When they returned to his home and Rick offered to cook Michonne supper, she stayed silent through the preparation and consumption of the meal as well, swirling her spaghetti dinner adorably and absentmindedly. She gulped down a couple glasses of wine and left the table without saying a word, every scrap of her food finished.

Rick listened after her and gave her some space, and he heard his master bathroom pipes switch on. He let her take her shower individually and took one after her, severely saddened by the thought of her distress; distress bad enough to strike her mute. He wanted to cry, thinking about how awful he felt for causing her grief, but he stopped himself and instead, tried to think of ways to bring her smile back. He missed that smile.

He met up with her on the couch in the living room when he was done washing off, and he timidly approached to ask her if she would like to watch a movie with him. When her eyes brightened at the appearance of him, his heart seized, and he scurried off to find some cookies for her to snack on while she picked a film from his repertoire.

" Hey, " he murmured as he rounded the couch once more and sat down beside her. " Found ya somethin'..." He handed her the chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies. " You okay? " Michonne turned her head and faced him.

" Yeah, I'm gonna be okay," she whispered. He wanted to reach out and touch her; ached to comfort her, but he feared she would pull away from him. Much to his surprise, she scooted closer, her knees pressed against his bare leg. The contact sent a current of peculiar electricity racing through him. He cleared his throat and tried to focus.

" When we met, you told me I could talk to you about anything. That you were a good shoulder to cry on... I wanted you to know same thing goes for me. If you ever wanna talk about what's upsettin' you, I'll be here just waitin' to listen... Alright?" He lifted his hand and ran his thumb over her cheek bashfully, and she smiled, turning her face into his palm.

" Thank you," she murmured, staring into his eyes, and her gaze set off a warm spark in his belly. They were quiet together for a long time, lost in each others gaze, cozy in each others company again. " Ready to watch my favorite movie?" she asked suddenly, holding up the DVD jacket for Kill Bill. Rick smiled.

" Absolutely ," he agreed. He had seen it before but he would gladly watch it again with her if that was what she wanted. Michonne stood and slipped the DVD into the player, sitting back down on the couch and easing closer to Rick than she had been before. She tucked her legs underneath her, and the oversized white t-shirt that she wore shifted and rode up on her thighs, revealing more of her flawless skin. Her panties were pale pink and popped splendidly against her deep complexion, drawing his eyes to beautiful, tempting places he knew he was lucky to have visited. Rick's mouth watered at the thought of his face between her thighs, his pink lips pressed to her swollen ones and his tongue lapping at her until she quivered.

" Are you even paying attention? " Michonne's honeyed voice startled him from his daydreams, and he realized she had caught him eyeing her. He licked his lips. He could feel his cheeks begin to burn and he knew that he was blushing.

" Sorry, " he apologized, turning back to the screen and swallowing hard as she started to nibble on her cookies, and suddenly the image of her perfect round ass sprang into Rick's mind, not entirely unwanted. His dick twitched and his boxers provided no privacy for his arousal. He clenched his fist beside him and tried to concentrate on the screen... but when their hands brushed together between them on the couch cushion, Rick forgot even the title of the movie itself. And the actors, and the plot, and the conflict. Everything he knew about it vanished from his brain as her fingers interlocked with his. He squeezed her hand.

" Have you given up yet? " Michonne whispered. Rick furrowed his brow and eyed her curiously as her thumb caressed his fingers.

" Given up what?" he asked. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips and his heart soared when she turned and grinned, her smile turning into a giggle. " What?" he asked again, squeezing her hand once more. Even when he didn't know what the hell was going on, he loved being with this woman. He couldn't tame his heartbeats.

" Your challenge," she replied. " I told you this morning that I could wait. That I wouldn't be the first to give in. " His stomach clenched and tightened. " Was I right? I see the way you've been looking at me. " She let go of his hand and set aside her snack, inching closer, and her fingers traced the lining of his boxers lazily. His breath hitched. She ran her palm over his chest and he knew she could feel his heart racing. Michonne teased his nipple with her index finger until it went hard beneath his cotton t-shirt and she giggled again, scooting even closer- till her face was buried in the crook of his neck. Rick could hardly breathe as her hand eased into his boxers. She avoided touching him, his dick twitching for her and begging for her attention. " Hmm, Rick? Are you going to give in? Do I win? " Her grip closed around his cock and his hips bucked in response.

" Am I blushin'?... Are my eyes blue? Yes, woman. _The answer is yes._ Of course you do. Fuck. I know you can already tell I've lost miserably, _"_ he moaned, his eyes closing. He was sure he heard another giggle. She began to run her hand over him and he felt her lips turn into a smile against his neck, every one of her gestures making his erection stiffen moreover.

" Mmm. Good," she whispered, straddling him rapidly. She freed him from his boxers and stroked him until his toes curled. " And since I won, I get whatever I want tonight." Rick nodded in agreement, straining to grasp at her words as she pulled her panties to the side and teased herself with his swollen, throbbing cock, his precum sticking to her delicate skin. He groaned when he realized how wet she already was and he slipped inside her with little effort, making her moan and reach for his curls to tug at them. Michonne licked her lips and pushed him deeper. " Mmm, now bring your hips forward and spread your legs," she murmured. She knew exactly what she wanted, and her demands turned him on fiercely.

He followed her instructions immediately, holding onto her waist as he did so and groaning accidentally when he felt himself sink deeper inside her. " Mmm, yes," she moaned when she began to move and Rick was licking his lips now, watching her closely, and he was utterly enraptured by the way she claimed him, his body alive in every way. He wondered how foolish he might look, knowing that his mouth was wide, for he was astonished by everything this captivating woman did. He was powerless to stop her, even if he wanted to. And he knew he didn't ever want to. " Kiss me, " Michonne whimpered. to him with greed in her tone, and he lifted his mouth to hers, crushing their lips together and teasing her tongue with his own.

Rick ran calloused hands down her toned, silky back, moaning softly when she pulled harder at his curls and held onto them for dear life, her grip on his hair providing just enough leverage to help her bounce on his cock and grind against him until a sweet little sound left her lips. She came powerfully and abruptly, pulling him close and groaning throatily in his ear as her hips bucked in a frantic dance of climax, her orgasm taking her by surprise and making her whimper madly, her manicured nails sinking into his fleshy back below his shoulders.

Hearing and feeling her cum the way she did set his body on fire for her.

Rick wrapped his arms around Michonne tightly and lifted her from the couch. She squealed, still breathless from her climax, and it was a delightful sound, followed by more of her giggling. He shifted her and lifted her body further, until she was draped across the shoulder she had left her mark on, her ass vulnerable in the air, and he proceeded up the staircase, laughing as she pushed away from him and somehow freed herself. He had underestimated her strength.

" Put me down right now before you break your back, old man," she scolded playfully. Rick chuckled, watching her turn away and enter his bedroom, blessing his presence and his usually boring room with her regal air, like a queen would. When she lifted her gaze to face him, a little smirk on her plump lips, her deep brown eyes bright and full, Rick felt his cock harden and twitch in his boxers, aching to be free again and buried inside her. He licked his lips as his eyes scanned her, her skin still shining from the layer of sweat his loving had left behind.

He had never, ever wanted anyone as much as he wanted Michonne in that moment.

Ever fiber of his being yearned to please her; right then and right there. He was aching for it; and it was a hot, heavy ache- a nuisance of an ache. He knew the only way to rid himself of such a pining was to give her everything her body asked for. And when she lay sated in his arm, in his bed, he would in turn be satisfied. And everything would be alright.

" I'm gonna fuck you with my tongue. Because I know that's what you want. Because I know it'll feel good for you. And that might help you forgive me for upsetting you... And then I'm gonna fuck you till you cum again for me... because that's what I want... Are you gonna let me do that? " he asked, reaching up to remove his t-shirt as she sat down on the edge of his bed and watched him. He threw the garment aside and smiled slowly at her, raising a brow and waiting patiently for her reply.

When she nodded, almost bashfully, his lips were on hers in a fraction of a second, sucking at her mouth and teasing her lips the same way he was about to tease her others. She moaned for him and opened her legs, giving him access to herself. Rick pushed her panties to the side and forced himself between her thighs, easing a finger into her wet center and teasing her until she whimpered softly and began to relax underneath him. She was comfortable beneath his touch, and her sudden submissive nature made her vulnerability and sensuality known, and it was the sexiest thing Rick had ever witnessed. She peeled off her top and leaned back to lay on his pillows, her beautiful body posed and waiting, her eyes closed and her lips parted.

Rick shifted, moving in closer and digging his erection into her thigh, and his lips never left her skin. He kissed her body tenderly as his finger worked inside her, teasing her until she squirmed. His mouth found her nipples hard and begging to be nibbled, and he gave them just what they wanted. He withdrew his finger and sucked it clean, the taste and the smell of her sweet musk filling his nostrils and coating his tongue and setting his dick harder than he ever thought possible. He trailed slow kisses down her flawless skin, stopping to tickle her thighs with his growing beard. She moaned for him again and arched as he planted kisses around her clit, teasing her mercilessly and driving her insane until she was on the verge of begging, her pussy wet and glistening. And finally, he gave her what she wanted. He buried his nose against her and lapped at her earnestly, moaning from the pleasure he brought her.

His shy lips closed around her clit, growing more determined and assertive with every wet kiss, and astonishingly, Rick got her off in minutes. He was surprised when she interrupted her own orgasm to drag his mouth to hers, the taste of her mingled in their mouths. Michonne locked her legs around his waist and pulled him roughly against her, until he barely had time enough to free himself from the prison of his undergarments. He pulled himself through the fly of his soft cotton boxers, now damp with her arousal, and he eased his cock inside her slowly and fully, dazed all over again by how heavenly it felt to be sliding inside of her again. Rick was convinced he had met a silky, sweet angel, and his dick hardened further at thought of claiming her all his own, and indulging her every whim until he gasped his last breath. He found a rushed rhythm with her, and they were tangled in every way, moaning loudly and thoroughly enjoying each other.

Sex had never been like this for Rick. And it was just the same for Michonne. But Rick didn't know that. He just couldn't believe how attuned he was to all the magical things her body told him to do. How odd it was to know that he had only met her two days ago and they could already make each feel so indescribably good. He was fascinated by his ability to find one of those places on her gorgeous body that called out to him, begging to be lavished, and when he showered that place with licks and kisses, she dripped around him, squeezed him- covered him in her sweetness, the ambrosia of all essences. He had never made a woman's body respond to him the way Michonne's did.

If this was what she needed for the day, for now or for the future, Rick wanted to be the one gave it. To know that what she longed for and desired on a hard day, was another dose of him sexually, left him humbled and forever enthused to please. He had never been more unhinged, or more impassioned with anyone else. The acts he carried out on her flawless body were actions he had rarely ever performed. He was doing things he had only done after a year or two of marriage. His brain told him of everything that would surely satisfy her, and his eyes followed and his lips and cock complied, suckling nipples and kissing dimples and plunging madly.

Rick wasn't going to judge her desires of the heart; he was only going to fulfill them. Michonne had been everything from a counselor, to a lover, to a savior, and Rick wasn't ever going to forget what she had done for him and been for him over the past few days. He was fortunate to even be near her.

And he was beginning to lose his mind watching her writhe beneath him, her ample breasts bouncing as he beat into her pussy again and again, and the bed rocked and aided his deep thrusts, moving with them rhythmically. Michonne gasped loudly, tossing her head and reaching for him. She cupped his ass and opened her legs wider, pushing and coaxing him deeper. He gritted his teeth. She was so wet- and so unbelievably tight. He knew he had to slow his pace or he wouldn't last.

" Oh, fuck," she mewled, pouting and closing her eyes. Rick began to tease her with his advances, filling her to the hilt and then withdrawing until the tip of his dick throbbed at her entrance, and when she squirmed and nearly begged for more, he slipped back inside her again so slowly that she looked as though she might cry. Her big, brown eyes fluttered open to peer up at him and the look on her face gave him butterflies, her full lips pursed and begging to be kissed.

 _God, she's so fucking beautiful,_ he thought. " So beautiful, " he accidentally said aloud, dipping his head and covering her mouth with his as he pounded into her, her chatoyant eyes closing again when he slipped his tongue into her mouth and sucked at her lips like candy. She was the single most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. And he was inside of her, watching himself disappear in her sugar-coated walls, only to pull out repeatedly and catch sight of the delicious results of their frenzied lovemaking; a thick, milky shaft covered in sweet, feminine juices and wrapped tightly in the perfect, pink petals of a goddess. His striving attempts at containing his trembling were fruitless and in vain. Rick shivered vehemently, driving his length into her in frantic repetition, his mind reeling at the way she urged him on and took him all, inviting him deeper and deeper and deeper. He never knew anything could be as mind-boggling and sensational as making love to Michonne Walker.

She moaned for him musically, whimpering his name against his mouth, and he nearly erupted, aching to fill her up again, yearning to feel her tightening around him, creaming around him violently and covering him with even more of those sweet, heavensent juices.

" Yes... Ooo, " Michonne whimpered into his mouth, gasping from every thrust he gave her. " Oh... _yes!_ Harder, Rick. Faster! " He would do whatever she asked, just to make her moan some more, to see that look on her face again when she came. And as he heeded her instructions willingly, he knew that she was on the brink. Rick knew exactly what she needed; just the thing to send her over the edge... because if he couldn't make her cum right then, he would lose it.

Rick kissed her once more and dragged his mouth away to shower her with kisses wherever his lips could reach. He listened to the sounds that filled his normally quiet room, the music they made together: his lips smacking as he sucked at her radiant skin, her moans of ecstasy, his grunts as he thrusted, the bed rocking, his testicles slapping against her in the most pleasant fucking way that he had to clench his fists and bite his lip to keep from emptying himself deep inside her that very second.

He kissed and licked all the places he could reach on her body that made her tremble; her neck, her shoulders, a hidden spot in her ear... and lastly, her nipples again. He rolled his tongue over each of them, admiring the flawless skin of her breasts. Her dark, hardened nipples gleamed in the moonlight from the saliva he left behind when he sucked and nipped and lapped at them; until she was so wet that he could hear the sounds she made for him while their bodies moved in perfect sync.

Suddenly, she went quiet. Her eyes opened for a moment before they rolled shut again and Rick felt her nails sink into his skin, her brow furrowing and her lips parting before the song of orgasmic moans was sang. And though Rick knew she was trying to hold on, with a few more determined thrusts and slow flicks of his tongue, he sent her crashing over the edge, powerless to stop herself, and the look of complete surrender and stunned surprise on her face made her even sexier. It stirred something inside him. He pulled her closer and watched her as she came, one hand against the small of her back, his sight trained on her expression of ecstasy.

" Oh, fuuu-... Ooh, Rick. Yes... _fuck_ , _yes! , "_ she cried with each thrust, arching beneath him, creaming around him, her fingers threading deeply into his nape. She tugged harder at his curls to pull his mouth to hers, and Rick cradled her head, his own fingers in her locs, and he kissed her back thoroughly, sucking at her plump top lip and tasting her breathy gasps of pleasure, all the while still pumping inside her. He loved to watch her come apart beneath him at the end of his cock, her dreads about her head like a halo, her other hand clawing at his back and her sculpted body trembling. He felt her strong thighs shudder around his waist; he saw her bottom lip quiver when she moaned, and he knew he was hopeless to stop himself- no longer able to hold on, no longer needing to.

He gave in completely, burying his face in her neck when his hips began to buck. He came harder than he thought possible, moaning pitifully into her shoulder, his teeth grazing her sweaty collarbone. He emptied himself deep inside her; each thrust, every spurt of hot, sticky seed prolonging her climax until her whimpers went silent and she lay breathless. Rick saw stars. There was something otherworldly about letting go inside her; being allowed the privilege to offer his warm seed to the paradise of her walls and womb. He bit his lip as tears welled, emotions overtaking him, and he kissed her passionately, stealing her air with gasps though she barely had enough for herself. They could hardly move, left to lay tangled in the sheets and each others limbs, kissing lustfully.

" Fuck, Michonne," Rick huffed when he wasn't completely out of breath. " You're going to kill me." She started to giggle faintly, covering her face with her hand, and the sound and feel of her laughter made him smile. He was tired beyond belief but all he wanted right then was to stay beside her. Knowing that he wouldn't see her until Friday night made his heart ache. Being around her already felt natural. He couldn't remember the last time he had smiled as much as he had today with her, even though life seemed to be difficult for them both. Rick just wanted to bring her joy. " C'mere," he whispered, pulling her close.

" Mmm," was her only response, and Rick moved to lay down at her side as she turned away and curled up next to him, so that he could spoon her and wrap his arm around her. He reached for his blankets to cover her and tuck her in, and he settled back against the tossled pillows, smiling sleepily when he realized that she was fast asleep in his arms. He was certain that smile wouldn't leave his lips for the rest of the night, knowing that he had contented her and satiated her fully. The way she purred and the sighing and smiling she did in _her_ sleep told him as much. He nuzzled closer, inhaling the scent of her hair, until, he too, was greeted by warm, comforting slumber.

And it felt so good to fall asleep so quickly, not a worry or care on his mind, only the sound of her steady breathing and the way she giggled and moaned and spoke imprinting itself in his brain and replaying in his dreams, keeping the nightmares at bay... Before he could even blink, he was waking to taste of his spearmint toothpaste and Michonne's plump, perfect lips against his.

" Bye, Rick, " he heard her whisper, the clock burning the image of 5:35am into his brain as he drifted back down into heavy repose with dancing Michonnes in his head. " I'll come back to you on Friday..." she murmured as she quietly left the room. " I can't wait... "

* * *

 _ **a/n: wow these fics cause me a lot of stress... but i love writing for yall. merry christmas! and the song is SafetySuit- Stay, a nostalgic track from my not-so-long-ago youth.**_

 _ **love, nereida  
**_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I know. I know. It's been a long, long time. And the only excuses I have is that life gets in the way and that I had to spend a lot of time working on this 19k word masterpiece for the sake of Richonne and all Richonners alike. Yeah, really, 19k words. And no, I couldn't rob you of the experience of missing Rick and Michonne together the way they miss each other their first week apart by splitting this story up; no way. So here you go. Please, please enjoy! It is very long, so get comfy and grab a snack; read the last chapter if you need to catch up, and feedback is always appreciated. You guys keep me motivated.  
**

* * *

 _Last time in Chapter 4 of Midsummer Nights  
Rick and Michonne spent their first weekend together devouring each other and getting acquainted.  
Lori made an unwelcomed appearance, meeting Michonne and causing worry over Carl's custody case.  
Rick and Michonne's first date results in some unanswered questions, and Rick knows she is hiding something that hurts her. After making love into the night, she leaves him with the promise to see him again on Friday..._

* * *

 _Ain't no sunshine when she's gone_  
 _It's not warm when she's away_  
 _Ain't no sunshine when she's gone_  
 _And she's always gone too long_

 _Anytime she goes away..._

 **Monday**

With a jutted lift of his chin and a heavy sigh, Rick Grimes regarded his reflection with slight displeasure and straightened the sandy brown collar of his backup uniform. He squared his shoulders and met his own thalassic blue gaze, staring back at the aging man he knew well now. He ran the back of his hand over his graying scruff, rustling soft salt and pepper and deciding against shaving. He preferred this look as of late, and he was beginning to notice that Michonne did as well, particularly when his face was buried against the meeting of her flawless thighs.

She had reserved a special purr especially for those moments when he purposefully ran his beard over her most delicate places, teasing her tenderly with his facial hair; her lips, her thighs, her swollen, sweet clit, all while he lapped at her with his tongue and caressed her every curve and dip with his fingers, tipsy from her flavor alone...

Rick blinked, smiling crookedly and meeting his own gaze in the mirror again. His mind had drifted, once again; forever wandering back to Michonne, of course, as it had been for the last hour now.

In the process of waking without her, he had risen from his lonely, empty bed groggily, her scent trapped in the very fibers of his linen sheets. He knitted his brow in puzzlement at the lack of sun he had noticed trickling through his pale blue curtains. When he approached his window and drew the fabric back, he gazed out over his side yard and suburban neighborhood. Not only was it cloudy, but a light rain had begun to fall and the sun nowhere to be found, hidden for quite a while it seemed, seemingly just as upset about Michonne's absence as he was.

He had frowned to himself and shifted his eyes towards the vacant parking spot in front of his house where her sedan had been, thinking of how she had gone away so early that he could hardly say goodbye. All she left behind was the taste of her lips, his spearmint toothpaste on her tongue; her mouth so cold that he had shuddered from her kiss, and drowsily he had eyed the fluorescent scarlet _5:35AM_ on his clock radio. He thought he had heard her mention 'Friday', and then she floated away like an angel, her steps unheard as she strutted, as swiftly and as lightly as a cat on her beautiful feet in the halls of his home.

 _Wonder this time where she's gone  
Wonder if she's gone to stay  
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone_  
 _and this house just ain't no home_

 _Anytime she goes away_

Instantaneously, he ached. He already had songs that reminded him of her stuck in his head. He missed Michonne.

He missed her smile- her voice, her mellifluous giggle. He missed the never-ending mystery in those big, captivating brown eyes.

Damn, he even missed her _eyes_.

Rick laughed softly to himself and licked his lips.

He loved Michonne's eyes. In the sun, they were the color of fresh brewed, ice cold, summer sweet tea; the kind of sweet tea his mother made for him when he would finish mowing acres of their family farmland, on days much like the scalding July one he had experienced the day he met Michonne. A tall, gleaming glass covered in crisp condensation and filled to the brim with sugary, brewed goodness and slices of lemons- sips of soothing nostalgia, and her eyes were just as comforting, if not more.

 _Has it only been three days?_ he wondered in disbelief, stunned at how natural it felt to pine for her- to feel so strongly about her. It wasn't just the sex, though their chemistry was undeniable and fiery and could not be ignored, especially since Rick had counted nine of her orgasms in total over the last three days, reminiscing fondly as he recalled every perfect instance. _No,_ he thought, _it's not just the sex. Musta been something else... something different..._

He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he felt it; deep in the pits of his stomach where the butterflies flitted and pestered him, buried in his chest beneath his heart where the flutters mystified him. He felt it in the tingles that raced down his spine when her lips found the spot only she had ever discovered, hidden behind his ear. He felt it in the warmth that washed over him when she laughed, and when she smiled.

He felt it now in the ache that resided in his heart and in his spirit, as he stood before the mirror, dreading the day ahead and the tasks that came with it. He wanted to sleep for a little while longer, or to see Carl and go to the park the way they always did. He wanted to see Michonne- wanted to take her somewhere that made her happy.

Instead, the day had come for Rick to return to the station and face his reality. It was standard routine to complete the remainder of the post shooting procedures where he had left off on Friday evening with his supervisor and an internal affairs investigator. He wasn't anxious to return to work at all; he didn't miss it in the slightest. But he did miss his stainless sidearm. His hip felt empty and lacking without his revolver hanging there, weighing down the right side of his gunbelt and jeans and knocking against his thigh with each stride.

His service weapon had been taken and collected as evidence, along with Shane's handgun in addition, for they had both been discharged on the scene. Rick hadn't fired his revolver in so long, the recoil had stunned him into a dazed stupor when he watched the product of his trigger-pull connect with Jody's skull. As they escorted Rick away from the scene of the shooting, Rick watched paramedics treat Shane and load him into the ambulance on a stretcher to be taken to Grady Memorial Hospital.

Rick remembered craning his neck to peer back at the investigating officers as he was driven away, the moments still passing before him in eery slow motion, his sight so out of focus that he wasn't even able stare down at his lap or keep his head from swimming and his ears from ringing. They had taken him to the station and began protocol, questioning him immediately and guiding him through his next steps. And all the while, Rick had sat in a daze, later giving up his uniform and then his revolver after the investigating officers returned from their duties. They had reminded Rick to stay away from media attention; to avoid the scene of the crime and to take as much time off as he needed. They even promised to send officers to check on him if he deemed it necessary.

Rick sighed to himself and shook his mind out of its dark places, turning to leave his master bathroom and saunter into his room to find his backup revolver; an old, black World War II Colt M1917, on the highest shelf of his walk-in closet, still tucked away in the velvet lined wooden box his grandfather had always kept it in. He smiled at the sight of the empty hanger where one of his favorite white linen shirts had been hanging, now missing because of Michonne. He decided she could keep it for as long as she desired.

Securing the old revolver on his gunbelt, Rick left his bedroom and proceeded downstairs, ignoring the kitchen altogether and heading for the front door to leave, his keys, phone and new lucky charm, one of the many beads that adorned Michonne's beautiful locs, all tucked away in the pockets of his faded black jeans. He had to get out of his house or he was afraid he might go insane. Sitting alone in the quiet of his home, no matter the room or space or ambience, was no longer an option.

Not when he was still seeing Jody everywhere.

He couldn't avoid him, in any form. Rick saw his face in the crowds of people on their morning commute, driving alongside him, walking past him swiftly on the wet sidewalks of Main Street. He swallowed the swelling lump that bobbed about in his throat, his eyes burning with tears of frustration. He had no idea what to do. The helplessness was driving him mad. He reached out and blindly found the radio dial, eyes filled with weighted drops as he pressed the power button and slipped in one of his oldies CDs. He turned the knob to increase the volume and drown out his thoughts until he made it to the station.

When he arrived, Rick parked his midnight blue and white squad car around the back and proceeded up the steps to the double glass doors, his boots sounding loudly with distinct clops against the concrete sidewalk as he passed the American flag. He glanced up at it for a moment and then headed inside, the sweat on his palm making for a difficult entrance, the metal handle of the glass door slipping from his grasp. The very moment the fluorescent lighting assaulted his eyes and the cramped space began to make his heart race, his ears started ringing shrilly. His face twitched into a scowl.

" Hey, Rick! What're you doin' back here so soon? "

 _Certainly not because I wanna talk to you, Kirk. Shut the fuck up,_ Rick heard himself snap.

" You sure you're ready to be out on duty again, Richie? You don't look so good, " his coworker Jim interjected behind him as Rick started through his small group of colleagues. Rick cringed.

 _Look who's talking._ Rick hated being called that nickname and he only tolerated it from his brother, Jeff. Being employed at such a small town sheriff's department meant working with men Rick had sat next to in homeroom or English class at King County High.

He pushed his way through his colleagues, nodding curtly towards them and leaving every question and greeting unanswered as he made his way to the back of the station to see Chief Winchester. Sighing deeply when he reached the oak door, Rick mentally prepared himself for what sat behind it. He knocked and waited for the booming reply before he turned the doorknob and stepped in.

" Rick Grimes, you trigger happy son-of-a-bitch; get in here!, " came the voice he was waiting for. Rick grimaced, turning to close the door behind him and remove his hat before sitting down. The only pleasant thing about Negan Winchester's office was the pair of coffee bean brown chairs with leather so buttery soft, Rick always found himself stroking the armrest, tracing the taut smoothness beneath rosewood borders and preparing himself to drown out any of Negan's vexatious rambling he didn't particularly desire hearing.

Rick would kill for this man's office. For the first time, he pondered running for sheriff against Negan, just to steal his acquired 'throne'. He didn't trust Negan. Rick always felt the need to listen to every word he said, waiting for a slip of the flapping tongue. He had to be hiding something.

 _Doesn't everyone have something to hide?_ he wondered.

Negan had worked with Washington, DC Metropolitan PD for nearly fifteen years before he moved to King County, Georgia, easing somehow from high school gym teacher to patrolman after a choice on a whim, and then to deputy and on to trooper. He moved to Georgia with his wife, Lucille, in search of the best cancer treatment for her when she became sick. Meanwhile, he swooped in and ran for sheriff, fooling the majority of King County alike into voting for him with his brash sense of humor and his charismatic smile.

Rick wondered if he could do the same; win the hearts of the working class citizens; the suburban soccer moms and beer-drinking dads, snatching up votes with his charm, with adorable Carl at his side and regal Michonne on his arm. He smirked at the notion. " What the hell are you doing back here so soon? " Sheriff Winchester asked, rousing Rick from his daydream. His boss took a loud sip of black coffee and eyed Rick over the brim of his mug, his greying eyebrows unkempt and raised.

" Thought I'd come back and complete any of the post-incident procedure we didn't finish on Friday, " Rick replied, bothered that he even had to explain. He didn't want to be there. The station was the last place on Earth he wanted to be and he could think of the first fondly.

" Well, it's not like you're gonna be here very long for that..." Negan started, eyeballing the uniform hanging neatly from Rick's straightened frame. He set his mug down on a wooden coaster and pointed at Rick's choice of clothing. " Why the hell did you even bother? You look like you've seen a fucking ghost, Rick. There's no way I can consider even _thinking_ about letting you back out on patrol yet. " Rick clenched his teeth, jaw tightening in frustration and his fist following suit where it rested against his thigh. Michonne's hair bead dug into his skin there and at the thought of her, he relaxed, recalling the scent of her hair, and the way her locs fell over her shoulders like trickling sheets of waterfalls slipping past a jagged mountain edge. He took a deep breath and exhaled it.

" I'm not tryin' to come back to work yet. Just let me finish the rest of the damn PSP so I can get the hell outta here and back to doin' something I actually want to, " he grumbled. Negan smiled crookedly, shaking his head and chuckling as he reached for his unorganized array of business cards in a plastic contraption.

" Alright, alright, fine, Rick. Don't get your man panties in a damn twist," he said, smirking. " By the way! A little birdie told me some hot stuff lawyer down in the A-T-L got that family to drop those charges on you! You've been getting cozy with the right kinda people, Grimy Grimes! " Rick felt his heart jump into his throat.

 _Michonne?_ , he thought. _Is he talking about her?_

" So, there's no need to worry about that anymore. We finished up everything on Friday. They said they don't need anything else from ya, and we can give you your revolver back, so grab it from Kirk on your way out. " Rick sighed and smiled a little, his fingers already twitching for the feel of those wooden grips and the solid steel in his hand again, the thick ridges on the hammer digging into his calloused thumb. " All we got left to do is get you to meet with one of our therapists."

Rick groaned and his boss continued. " I saw you after it happened; do you remember? " And Rick tilted his head in reply, trying to recall the moment. He couldn't, so he kept his mouth shut, avoiding his supervisor's gaze and the question entirely. " You're not the first cop to have a hard time after a citizen's shooting. Don't be so damn hard on yourself. It's pretty normal actually; had my share of ruts after I shot a few fuckers my rookie year. I'd be more surprised if the whole thing hadn't affected you at all."

 _Jesus Christ,_ Rick thought. _His rookie year? A few?_

Rick had been on patrol for almost sixteen years and this was the first time he had ever killed anyone. What a stroke of dumb luck. He blinked in surprise as Sheriff Winchester paused, eyeing Rick with sincere concern for the first time since he had arrived, but he knew his bosses' genuineness would vanish- sooner rather than later.

" I talked to the welfare advisor. We set you up with Ms. Cloyd. She's the mental health professional and welfare counselor that works over here with us and with Atlanta PD in all the post-shooting interventions. They're mandatory sessions- so once you finish with a session or two, she can decide whether or not you need more time, or if we can get you back out there on duty... Y'know, if that's ultimately your goal. I'll have her start penciling you in during the workweek and she'll give you a call to set things up once we make sure she's good for you, so don't miss your appointment, Rick. Plus, she's nice. And plump. A sweet little piece of ass, if you ask me. You won't be disappointed, " Negan chuckled, twirling his blue fountain pen and grinning, his thick gray beard twitching with his smile. And there it was; just as Rick had suspected. The crassness had returned, and he winced.

" I'll make sure to see her but, I'm not interested in that way, " Rick muttered, nodding curtly again and standing to leave, his enthusiasm to flee mistakenly and rudely evident.

" Aww c'mon, Rick. You look like you could stand to get laid! You're too goddamn uptight! ," his boss hollered after him as Rick exited the office in a blur, leaving the door ajar and walking away hastily. Once again, he ignored every greeting and inquiry except Kirk's, paying attention to his words just to snatch his Colt Python on the way out. Rick nudged the glass door with a fist and sent it flying open, the mist of another short summer shower striking his skin, the quiet of nature and the soft bustle of small town traffic welcoming him with open arms.

Rick changed his mind about leaving his squad car behind at the station, and he climbed in and started the engine, pulling out his phone and calling Michonne immediately. He closed his eyes as it rang, waiting and tapping his fingers, his nail clicking against the hair bead in his pocket.

" Hello?" The voice in his ear was not Michonne's, but it was a vaguely familiar one. Rick sat up in his seat.

" Who's this? " he asked.

" _You_ called. Who is this? "

" Where's Michonne? "

" Right to the chase. " She chuckled. " She's upstairs, in the courtroom, in the middle of a case," and Rick sighed. He had suspected that Michonne would be busy but he had hoped to hear her voice; to make her giggle and to ask her if she had met with Jody's family- if she was the "hot stuff lawyer" Negan spoke of. He scoffed inwardly. What an awful way to describe her. It would never do her justice. She was much, _much_ more than that.

" Do you know if she met with the Remington family today? About-"

" Yeah, that was her. She heard through the grapevine that they'd be meeting with one of the lawyers in our firm this morning, so she stopped by and had a little talk with them. Worked her Michonne Magic on them. " Rick was floored. He blinked and blushed, stuttering to find a reply. All he wanted in that moment was to see Michonne and to wrap his arms around her. " I'll let her know you called to send your thanks, " her friend finished.

" Can you tell her to call me back? Y'know, when she can?" He could hear the smile in the woman's voice when she replied.

" Sure thing. 'Bye, Rick " and a click followed as she ended the call. Rick sighed. He had longingly hoped to at least hear Michonne's voice but he cringed at the realization that he had hardly waited a few hours since he had last seen her to try to talk to her again. He didn't want to seem desperate... but he didn't want to play games either. He wanted her know hthat se was constantly on his mind; that there was no way he would even be able to function without the promise of seeing her again. He knew just the mere thought of her could mollify his qualms. He ran his hand through his curls and groaned, switching the radio off and peeling away from the curb. He took off down Main Street, hitting the highway from there and driving until he passed the King County city limit.

He stopped just past the 'Welcome to Cynthiana' sign and pulled over into the grassy fields of his hometown's outskirts, shifting into park and staring at the spiraling swarm of gnats outside his window. He glanced up, breaking into a cold sweat when he looked out over the acreage of countryside, hoping for a break from Jody's presence; a moment of peace.

But his vision clouded with the incoming storm of anxiety and his ears began to ring, his fingers twitching towards either of his revolvers. There he was, bleeding and barely breathing, hiding behind the trees...

Peeking over the blades of grass... his one eye more piercing than all other gazes combined.

And with a heaving, trembling sigh, Rick inhaled and squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth and screaming as loudly as he could, for as long as he could. He beat the steering wheel with his fist until his hand was raw with pain, his throat burning with outrage and his heart plummeting into his stomach maddeningly.

 _How much longer?_ he thought as the tears began to stream down his flushed cheeks. _How much longer is this gonna follow me?_

 _~•°•~_

 **Tuesday**

" What did you say? What the hell are you smiling about, Michonne? " French tipped fingers snapped in front of her face and stirred her from her thoughts. Michonne blinked up at her friend and turned her attention, breaking into a grin as she fiddled with the handle of her cat-shaped mug.

" Nothin', " she retorted, pursing her lips and eyeing Andrea with slight scowl. " You're not going to stop asking me that, are you? "

" I will when you answer the damn question. " Michonne softened at the odd look of desperation in her best friend's bright blue eyes. She giggled.

" Fine. Jeez. Here. " She revealed her smartphone from in its hiding place in her lap beneath her desk, and she turned the screen towards Andrea. Michonne watched her sapphire eyes widen and her pupils dilate. She smirked. She couldn't blame Andrea in the slightest for her response; the picture definitely called for such a reaction.

Michonne had snapped a photo of a very sexy snoozing Rick just before she left his house the previous morning. He was stark naked, his sheet pulled up to protect his manhood, the trim of the soft pale blue sheets she now knew well nestled below his Adonis belt. His chestnut curls disheveled and his full lips parted, he had slept like baby at her side, his toned arm raised above his head and resting on his pillows, the other still wrapped about the vacant spot where she had slept, his fingers without a doubt searching for a few squeezes of her plump ass.

And, knowing that it would be her last time seeing him for a few days, she couldn't help but to want a picture of him; to remember how peaceful he looked, to remember the way her stomach fluttered when she beheld his face...

" Is that... hat boy? " Andrea asked, her blonde brows raised in astonishment. Michonne laughed harder.

" Yeah, that's hat boy. He has a name, Andrea. It's Rick, remember? I've told you plenty about him." Andrea blushed bright red.

" Jesus, Michonne. I couldn't see him very well in that club Friday night. No wonder you haven't stopped smiling..."

" Okay, but he's more than his looks, though. He's a sweetheart, too, " Michonne said in a dreamy whisper, drawing her phone into her lap again to smile softly down at Rick's picture. When she glanced up again, Andrea's brow was quirked, this time quizzically. " What? " Michonne asked, scowl returning and deepening.

" A sweetheart? Really? " Andrea asked back, and Michonne frowned so harshly that her face began to hurt, tension ridged in her furrowed brow.

" Are you trying to say-? "

" I'm just saying... He's all over the news for shooting that little boy, Michonne. Just... be careful around him. I don't think-. "

" I don't remember asking you what you think, Andrea. " Immediately, she broke eye contact, but Michonne continued anyway. " And that was not a little boy; despite what the news is trying to make it look like. He was nineteen years old. And very much a man in the eyes of others thanks to the decisions he decided to make and the actions he affected others with. He held the girl he loved hostage, at gunpoint, over a confrontation about drugs. He was high. He shot a cop and he endangered a lot of lives... I don't think it's something Rick wanted to do. But I think he believed it had to be done. You're judging him for doing his duty as a sheriff's deputy. Things like that happen on Atlanta PD patrol all the time. You've defended some of those very cops and I've never heard a word of judgement out of you towards the men who have killed people for less. "

There was a long, awkward silence suspended between them and Michonne sat there scowling, angered by Andrea's audacity.

" Look, Michonne. I didn't mean- I don't-. " Andrea sighed. " I'm sorry. I'm glad you've met someone after everything... after-. " Michonne held up a hand to cut her friend off and interrupt her. " Okay, I'm sorry, we're getting off topic. You wanted to tell me something. I didn't hear what you said earlier. Before we were... distracted, " Andrea said, pursing her lips. Michonne clicked the power button on her phone and slipped it back into the pocket of her handbag.

" No, you didn't, " she replied, sitting back in her rich, buttery-brown leather executive lounge chair and searching Andrea's eyes, trying to relax her frown and calm her tempers flames before they ignited and set everything around her ablaze.

" So, what is it? " Andrea asked. Perhaps her friend could see the look of dread spreading over her face. Her hesitation to even bring up the topic had persisted, causing her to fidget and fumble with their notes, her eyes scanning the words in rhythmic horizontal lines. " What is it? Answer me. " Michonne sighed.

" I found something. When I spoke to Sophia yesterday... It's not good... "

...

" How could you do this. "

It hardly came out as a question. Nothing was coming out right.

Michonne was in a trance the entire winding route to the prison. She let Andrea drive, fearing her own cognitive skills were too impaired. She was ill with worry, her mind racing, her lips quivering as she mumbled to herself. And now she sat before Carol, eyes burning as she held back tears.

" I didn't think anyone would find out," Carol squeaked, her voice breaking as she held back tears. Her lips quivered and she lifted a trembling hand to wipe her flushed, tear-streaked cheeks. " I didn't know what to do. "

" You didn't have to lie. You lied to me, Carol. And your lie took this case to trial and now you're stuck in here for 25 years... I can't believe you did this. You're going to make me look like such a fool, " Michonne whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. " Who does this? What kind of person lies to their defense attorney about something this crucial, this... significant, this... changes everything, Carol! How could to do this?! " Carol flinched at her crescendo, recoiling in what looked to be shame, but Michonne doubted it.

" I'm sorry, " Carol whispered. " I- I don't know what else to say. I didn't think anyone would find out. I... didn't think I would make a mistake. " Michonne felt her blood begin to boil, rage bubbling beneath her skin and warming her with displeasure. She blinked rapidly, calming the unsteady rush of her breathing. She set down her notes and clenched her fists in her lap, her nails sinking into her palms. Carol refused to meet her gaze, her bright blue eyes shifted down and shimmering with tears.

" Well, you did." Michonne kept shaking her head. " Damn, you're a good liar, Carol. You had me convinced. I believed you... I defended you. But your lies weren't good enough to fool the jury, I suppose. Not only will I no longer be representing you; I have to take this to tribunal. All of it. " Carol blinked up at her.

" Everything?, " she asked and Michonne nodded.

" Yup. There is no duty of confidentiality now. It's void because of your lies. You don't lie to your attorney, Carol... I was on your side. " Carol mumbled something under her breathe as Michonne snatched up her notes and crammed them noisily into her briefcase, snapping it shut loudly and turning to leave.

" Wait!, " Carol called after her. She stood and the sound of her shackles swaying were the only sound in the concrete room. It bounced off the walls and into Michonne's head, reverberating there, tossed back and forth between her ears until her brain was left rattling.

" What? " Michonne replied through clenched teeth, her back still turned to Carol, her shoulder tense and stiff beneath the fabric of her black blazer and eggshell blouse.

" I deserve to be in here, I do, but, " Carol whispered, swallowing hard and glancing down at her cuffed wrists. She began to wringing her hands, her shackles clattling on the tabletop. Michonne bit her tongue in restraint and turned to face her client. " Sophia doesn't deserve to suffer. What am I suppose to tell her? "

" I don't know!, " Michonne said, exasperated and losing patience rapidly. She was teetering on the brink of insanity and cruel words. " How about you tell her you lied to your attorney? To the courtroom? And to her. Why don't you tell her you planned all along to stab her father to death in the kitchen, that you were just waiting for your opportunity? " When she paused, her chest heaved with angry bursts of air, her features set so deeply into a scowl that it was beginning to pain her face all over again. " I know Ed beat you. And it was wrong. No one should ever lay a hand on the people they love. But you lied to me and told me that his death was not premeditated and that is how I represented you. Based on your lie. It blindsided me when the opposition kept pushing against your innocence. " Carol looked defeated. She sat back down in her chair.

Opening her briefcase again, Michonne found her notes quickly, scanning them with her index finger. " ' _Ed was upset because we hadn't cleaned the kitchen yet._ _It was in the sink._ _I remember it being the only knife there... I had u_ _sed it to make lunch for Sophia.'_ you told me. You slipped up, Carol... You had your story locked tight until last week... when I met with you to review the case again, for the dozenth time... This place has finally gotten to you and you can't even keep your story straight anymore. You fucking slipped up. Just that one little slip made me feel like something wasn't right... And you knew it. And when I asked you if I could speak to Sophia, to use her statement in the brief for your appeal that you were innocent... It's almost as if you forgot you weren't innocent at all; like I said, such a _good_ liar. You might have even convinced yourself. It's the reason why you panicked when I left and tried to cut your wrists... But I didn't see it. Not yet. "

Michonne pursed her lips and shook her head again. " Not until I met with her... You made sure I had her subpoena quashed. Made sure to convince me that Sophia was too traumatized to testify during the trial. Had everyone convinced. And I think she was... All those interviews before the trial and she never once was able to answer a few simple questions. But I like Sophia... a lot. She's a bright girl. And it wasn't too difficult to connect with her, to get her to open up. All I had to do was get her to recall a few memories and she clarified it for me. All she had to do was tell me that the very last food you ever made for her was tomato soup. Sounds silly, right? But I knew right away what it meant... " Michonne met her clients eyes. " Just please say it out loud. Admit it all so I can finally know what everyone has known since the fucking beginning. "

" It's true, " Carol murmured after a long pause. It hadn't taken much to derail her ruses and cunning trickery. " That knife wasn't in the sink. I hadn't used it to make Sophia lunch. " Carol looked up, trying her hardest to speak through her forming sobs. " I hid that knife all day... just waiting for Ed to explode. And when he finally did, that was it. I'd had enough. I did it. And I'm glad I did. I just wish it hadn't ended up being like this. " And with that, Michonne turned to leave, buzzing the guard and waiting impatiently for the doors to unlatch and set her free of the dismal cell she stood in. " Wait. Please. Please talk to Sophia for me. Tell her I'm sorry. "

" Tell her yourself. "

" They're taking her away! Her foster parents don't want her anymore. She's already back in the system. In the care of the state, and I don't know where she's going to end up! I don't know what to do, Ms. Walker- Please! "

" How does this concern me, Carol?!, " Michonne shouted. Carol's eyes brightened and widened with distress and she tried to stand again, her shackles still binding her.

" You said yourself. You're good with her. You got her to open up about something she hasn't talked about in months. To anyone. Not even me... I know about you. I remember you from the news. I remember what happened. God made our paths cross for this reason. " Michonne tensed and frowned at the woman's words.

Of course, people still remembered; it wasn't very long ago. She had hidden well from the public eye but a few people still knew. A few people had seen her face even when she tried avoid the attention...

" And what reason is that?, " Michonne asked.

" Sophia doesn't deserve to be punished for what I did. You know how much the system ruins the children in it. You've seen it; I know you have. You've seen how little they care-. "

" Tell me the reason, Carol, " Michonne whispered, her eyes filling with unexpected tears.

" To give you a gift after what you've lost. To bring both of you some happiness. You can adopt Sophia and take care of her before this world ruins her the way it has everything else. "

~•°•~

 **Wednesday**

Day drinking wasn't a habit he practiced often, but whenever he happened to be in Daryl's company on any given weekday around noon, Rick had a cold beer in his hand. He didn't mind the coolness on his tongue with the sun beating down on his back the way it was, sweat trickling and collecting on his back and chest. He took another swig and shifted slightly, trying to find the best and most comfortable position to lay in at the bottom of Daryl's rugged Jon boat. He was nestled in a small pile of blankets that smelled faintly of mildew, his fishing pole neglected at his side.

" You ain't gonna fish with me today?," Daryl asked, securing his line and lighting a cigarette as he waited. Rick removed his sheriff's deputy hat and placed it over his face, shielding his eyes from the bright rays of the afternoon sun.

" No," he replied flatly. "Just came out here to get the hell outta the house."

" Just usin' me for my boat?"

" Yup. "

" Asshole. " Rick chuckled and Daryl threw an empty can of beer at him, the last few sloshes of brew spilling onto his denim shirt and soaking through to cool his sweaty skin before clattering to the floor. Both men grew silent, shifting into their relaxed state and absorbing their surroundings. The boat drifted into a spot of shade beneath one of the many riverside oak trees and it provided a lasting break from the July heat. Rick sighed contently and closed his eyes, the singing wind and the whistling birds and the lapping of the water his music.

It was nice to finally be out of his house. He couldn't stand the never-ending silence that surrounded him in every room. No matter what he did, he couldn't escape the nagging loneliness, could not ignore its gnawing discomfort. How exuberant even the air had been when Michonne blessed his home with her presence, her smile brightening every dark crevasse, her laugh a measure of music reaching every noiseless, dreary nook.

He missed the patter of Carl's running, socked feet through the halls. He missed the noise of his video games and the sound of his voice, his expressions of pure jubilation in the midst of his many exciting tales. Rick felt his eyes well with tears and he was grateful for the cover of his wide brimmed hat to conceal his emotion.

His biggest fear had come to pass in the midst of a week he thought couldn't possibly get any worse.

An hour before he left to meet Daryl by the marina, his phone vibrated against him, juddering in his back pocket. When he answered, Lori's voice made his ear ring and her words filled his heart filled with dread in the blink of an eye.

She was finally going to do it.

Lori was seeking full custody of Carl.

He could hardly remember anything she had said after her declaration, clutching the phone to his ear and staring blindly through nebulas eyes at a tiny cavity dug into the bamboo flooring beneath his feet. He had hung up on her while she still spoke and then broke into tears, telling himself to continue his day as planned, just to get out of his house and its lonesome atmosphere, with nothing but grief to offer.

He spent the drive to Daryl's trailer sobbing, his knuckles white and drained of blood as he gripped the steering wheel, his tears splashing against his thighs and soaking into the thick, dark cotton of his jeans. He screamed until his throat was raw. He tried to call Michonne and got only her voicemail. And when he and his friend finally took off, skirting across the water's edge, Rick told Daryl everything and his friend took him out further immediately, knowing it would help him to relax and to get away.

" She explain why? " Daryl asked, ashing his cigarette in the murky, rippling water with a tap of finger. Rick sighed loudly.

" Says I'm not fit to raise him in the state I'm in... Whatever the fuck that means."

" I hate to say it, Rick, but I can't lie to you. I _do_ think yer in some sorta state but... I don't think that means she needs to take your kid from you, man." They were quiet for a little while, listening to the chirps of insects and the sloshing of the water as it lapped against the boats edge. " You talked to Shane about it yet? " Rick shook his head.

" Ain't talked to Shane since the shooting. Don't want to now if he's behind Lori on this custody thang either. I don't know what to do, Daryl, " he murmured, his voice cracking. Light blinded him for a moment as Daryl reached out and lifted Rick's hat from where it rested on his face, peering down at him with a veil of concern cloaking his expression.

" Ain't your new girl a lawyer, man? Can't she help you out? " Rick sat up, making the boat rock beneath them as he moved. He squinted from the sun's brightness and readjusted his hat before he spoke again.

The mention of Michonne made him pine for her again. He would text her in a few hours and let her know of Carl's desire to visit the zoo on Friday when they were to meet. He didn't want to call and disrupt her busy schedule, but he hoped that she would at least read the text and think of him.

" Yeah, I know, but I don't feel right about askin' so much of her. She told me she'd give me some professional legal advice but she's a criminal defense attorney, not a family court lawyer. Not her jurisdiction I s'pose... but when I talk to her again, I'll see if she can help me out a bit. " Daryl nodded and flicked his cigarette butt into the water.

" Good. Now stop mopin' and pick up that damn fishin' pole. They're bitin'. " Rick smiled a little and obliged his friend, grateful for his company as they skated across the waters surface, the July sun coming to hide quietly behind the clouds and offer them a break from its heat. He missed Michonne. He saw her face everywhere; in the fluffy clouds, in the foliage. He heard her voice, unsure if it was all in his head or elsewhere.

He had to see her again. And he couldn't wait, but he would have to.

~•°•~

She hadn't planned on driving deep into the backwoods and down the hectic highways throughout Georgia on such a torrid Wednesday afternoon, but Michonne was drawn back to her childhood home as if she and her hometown were two opposite ends of a magnet, forced together despite their struggle. The Savannah coast was warm and inviting in comparison to Atlanta today. She had to meet with the court and the opposition early that morning to alert them of Carol's lies; the false evidence and the evidence offered in discovery. The private remonstration was without a doubt one of the most difficult tasks Michonne had accomplished since she passed her bar. Providing all the answers for Carol's lies was incredibly difficult but she did it.

And then the bright and beautiful Savannah coast was calling her home again for some reason. She could feel it. The sun made her skin glow and warmed her heart with memories of the past. The trail of breadcrumb landmarks led her home and now she stood knocking at the vivid orange door of the old, familiar brownstone, her sandaled feet restless in wait. She could feel the tears begin to form in the corners of her eyes and it cast prisms of rainbow light on her wet lashes. The door flew open and when Michonne saw her mother's face, the dam nearly broke, the waves held back tightly with so much self-control it made her chest ache.

" Babygirl! " her mother Renée shouted, reaching her arms out to embrace her daughter firmly. She squeezed her until she could barely breathe. " Why didn't you call before you came? You know I taught you better manners than that." But in spite of her words, she was still opening her front door wide to invite her in, and Michonne stepped inside, greeted by the calming smells of nostalgia; the baked apple pie candles and savory dinners of past days stuck in fibers of her old home, in the dusty furniture, in the handmade quilts and curtains. She smiled weakly, her eyes watering at the sight of it all. When she turned to face her mother again, the older woman had a frown on her slightly wrinkled face, her dark umber eyes squinted in observation. " Did you meet a man? " she blurted suddenly. Michonne began to laugh.

" Oh my God, Momma. How do you know these things? " She swatted Michonne in reprimand.

" Don't you dare take the Lord's name in vain in this house, Michonne Sabina Walker! "

" Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry, " she giggled. " But how do you know? "

" I can see it in your eyes. I can see it in your skin, babygirl! Sit down right now and tell me all about him! " Michonne hesitated, walking towards the tired old couch and sitting down as her mother scurried off into the kitchen to grab refreshments; sweet tea and cookies, of that Michonne was positive. " Well, go on! " Renée snorted.

" Well, I... I... "

" I know I taught you better than to stutter, child, so start speaking up. " She laughed again at her mothers obvious impatience as she watched her disappear into the kitchen for a moment.

" Alright. Well. His name is Rick. He's a cop. " Renée burst from the kitchen with a tray in her chubby hands and joined Michonne on the couch, pouring the sweet tea into glasses quickly and plopping down in the seat next to her.

" A cop? "

" Well, a sheriff's deputy. Up in King County. "

" Ooo, I love those uniforms, " her mother tittered. " I bet he's handsome. "

" He is, " Michonne whispered, her mouth watering at the thought of him. She knew she had missed a few calls from him in the last couple of days. She had been so busy dealing with Carol's bullshit case and so many other new cases that were finding their way onto her desk at work in scattered heaps. Rick's phone calls were currently being buried under all the other dozens of missed calls Michonne had failed to answer; and in the recent months, there seemed to be more and more of those, from strangers and acquaintances alike. But she didn't want to dwell on all her duties and expectations. She had come to visit her parents and that's what she was going to focus on. Their counsel meant more to her right now than anyone else's word. But she hoped that Rick would at least send a text soon. It would be easier for her to reply if he typed up a quick message for her.

Michonne slowly bit into a cookie and tried to relax. Her heart raced when Rick happened to be on her mind, and she became so distracted that she didn't at all hear her mother speaking to her.

" Lord, have mercy, look at you! " Michonne blinked up in puzzlement, lips wrapped around a sweet nibble, cheeks warm with feeling. " I know that look when I see it. You're under his spell. He must be doin' _something_ good. " Michonne nearly choked. The women in her life had no shame.

If there was one thing her mother was, it was open. Her honesty usually scared everyone away, Michonne's father included, but it was one of her mother's many traits that she admired. Even when it embarrassed her. " You don't have to say a thing, babygirl, I already know. Just tell me what's botherin' you about him. I know that's why you're here... among some other things perhaps, but go on, baby. "

Renée took a sip of her tea and leaned back to relax. There was never a doubt in Michonne's mind where she had gotten her keen sense of intuition from. Her mother had possessed the trait for as long as she could remember.

" Well... I know Rick is a good man. I can see it in his eyes- you taught me that. But he's troubled... "

" How so? "

" He had to kill a teenager on duty last week. " And her mother gasped. " I know. It's awful. And... it's hurting him. Sometimes I see him in a state of mind that might be considered... a little crazy. A little frightening. I don't know what else to do but to be there for him. He doesn't have a lot of supportive people in his life. "

" That may be all he needs, Michonne. " Michonne glanced up from the spot on carpet she had glued her gaze to for quite awhile, in fear of meeting her mother's kind eyes. But when she did, a tear fell immediately and she rapidly wiped it away.

" Do you think so? " Renée nodded softly, tucking one of Michonne's dreads behind her ear for her.

" I remember you were the same way. After what happened. Everyone thought you were going crazy too but you just needed someone who understo-. "

" Momma, please. Don't. "

" I'm sorry, baby, but it's true... Is he seeing things? Has he told you if he is? "

" Yes. " Michonne looked away, her eyes filling with tears again, the glass of tea shaking in her trembling hand. She had to admit to herself that she was worried about him, but she didn't want to give in so easily to her craving for his company. She knew she was silly for thinking so, but Michonne suspected her dignity and tenacity might suffer.

" Then you know exactly how he feels. You know what he needs, babygirl, " Renée murmured, rubbing her daughter's back gently. " I think he needs you. "

~•°•~

 **Thursday**

 _One more day,_ Rick thought, scratching his ever-growing beard. _Just one more day and everything will be alright._

After a very short first session with his therapist, h had retreated to his home to spend the rest of his Thursday evening drinking scotch and trying to nap away his grief. He hardly remembered a thing this psychiatrist told him. It all sounded like babble; rehearsed bullshit with no genuine feeling towards patients. And to top it all off, they had already suggested prescription drugs long before his hour was up, along with promises of cognitive behavior and prolonged exposure therapy; things that made him uneasy and sent chills race down his spine.

 _They think I'm crazy,_ he thought to himself. ... _Well, maybe I am._

He felt like such a pitiful man; moping about around the house and watching television when he returned home. The sun had set and loneliness was creeping in rapidly.

As if he didn't miss her enough already.

He had called her twice now. But Rick was almost certain that there was no way Michonne could refuse a third call. His stomach with an anxious swarm of panicking butterflies and he sighed, staring down at the dimmed screen and debating internally. He had called enough already and definitely didn't want to bother her further, not even with a text, so he changed his mind altogether, feeling foolish and casting the phone aside as he stood up to go to the bathroom. The sleek black device bounced from the mattress and hit the floor with clatter and a thud, ringing loudly when it fell between the bed and his oak end tables and hit the floor.

Rick dove for it embarrassingly quickly, dramatically leaping onto his bed and reaching into the crack between his furniture, his fingers grasping at dust bunnies and hairballs until vibrations brushed his fingertips. He retrieved it and stared down at the screen with a smile, his heart racing, his cheeks burning. It was her. And her call was the only thing that had genuinely warmed his heart in the past week. He answered immediately.

" Hello? " he drawled, his voice nearly failing him. And when she spoke into his ear, his body relaxed with a sigh, her voice like music to a once deaf man; the first true melody he had ever heard.

" Hey, Rick, " she said. He sighed again.

" Damn, it's so good to hear your voice, " he blurted and she giggled, making his heart clench in response. " How you been? You good? " Michonne exhaled. It was the first time all week anyone had asked her that and the realization surprised her.

" I am now, " she whispered.

" Tough week? " Rick asked and he smiled at her little 'mhmm'. " Me too. Wanna talk about it? "

" I think you know by now I never want to talk about my day, " she replied.

" S'alright, I understand. I never want to either... I just wanna talk about you. "

" Hmm, really? Do tell, " she purred, and the tone of her voice made his blood pump hot in his veins. No one else could make him feel such a way. He had missed her effect on his mood.

" ...When you left on Monday mornin'... , " he started. " I could still smell you, darlin'... your scent on me. Your...essence. On my clothes, in my bed... on my skin. Made my mouth water... made me... want to... _taste_ you." Rick exhaled a shaky breath and groaned, his erection sudden and now straining against the fabric of his royal blue boxers. He couldn't even speak straight. He pressed the phone closer, as if it meant she would be nearer if he did. He was literally aching. He wanted to be with her, in her arms, buried deep inside her with his lips covering hers, concealing her whimpers with messy kisses.

" Why, Mr. Grimes, are you talking dirty to me? " Michonne purred into the phone, her soft voice in his ear making the hair on his neck stand at attention, much like other, more noticeable parts of himself. His eyes rolled closed.

" You're driving me crazy, Michonne," he whispered back, " I can't. I...I. " He exhaled again, loudly this time, his breathe rustling in the receiver. He reached down and rubbed at his aching erection, seeking at least a minuscule fraction of relief; anything. Michonne wasn't helping, her sweet voice coming over the phone and nestling warmly in his ear. He wished desperately that it were true; that she was with him, that she was whispering to him and kissing his ear and neck just the way she knew he liked it.

" Yes? " she prodded, her voice a honeyed coo, her calm evident.

" I need you, Michonne, " he confessed without hesitation. " This week has been too long. It's been hell. I don't ever want to go this long without seein' you again. I need you here... in my bed with me... laughing with me, wrapped around me. I need to make you smile. Make you... cum. I need to hear you scream my name again. " Rick blinked in surprise at the words pouring from his lips. He had never spoken to a woman like this before, either far too embarrassed to do so, or his pride forced its way into his throat and kept him from saying such things.

He couldn't disguise his urge to be honest with her, even about something like this. He felt himself blush, warmth spreading and tingling over his cheeks and neck as he listened to the soft whisper of her faint breath through the receiver. She was quiet on the other end of the phone for a lingering moment. Rick closed his eyes and tilted his head back against his pillows; pillows that still smelled faintly of her hair, of her skin.

" I'm not wearing anything, " she whispered suddenly, moving to ease her frilled floral panties down her shins and past her ankles. She waited for him to respond, hearing his breath catch in his throat. Her admission set his dick even harder, if that were possible. He groaned aloud, picturing her perfect body in his mind's eye.

" You're torturing me, " he all but whimpered, his face against his palm, his dick twitching, aching.

" Touch yourself, " she persuaded in a whisper. " I think it'd be good for you. You're too stressed. "

" I am... stressed, " he admitted.

" So am I... , " Michonne said. " Too stressed... Just think about me. Think about how much you miss me and want me and touch yourself, Rick." His name on her lips made him shiver.

" But...I-. "

" _I'm_ touching myself, " she continued. Rick bit his lip so hard he thought he might begin to taste blood. " And I'm so wet, " she whispered, and there were those butterflies again. With parted lips, Rick tried to steady his excited breathing.

" Are you thinkin' about me? " he asked, slipping his hand into his boxers and gripping himself at the thought, his toes curling at the contact and a growl stuck deep in his throat. He could feel precum dribbling from his swollen tip and he ran his thumb over himself, spreading his arousal until he was slick and his hand moved with ease.

" _Yes_ , " Michonne sighed in reply and when she moaned, Rick thought he might explode. As his hand began to move slowly up and down his throbbing length, his imagination ran rampant. He envisioned Michonne, naked and stretched out on her bed, her beautiful legs spread, her long, deft fingers drawing lazy circles over her clit while her other hand teased at her pert nipples. The image of her he had painted in his mind drove him wild and finally a groan escaped his lips. " What are you thinking about, Rick? " He liked it when she said his name like that.

" You, " he murmured. " Always you. "

" Tell me what you want to do to me, Rick. " He moaned again, working his hand over his cock.

" I wanna-. " He paused and licked his lips, closing his eyes so that he could focus. "I wanna bring you here. I want you on your back right here in my bed. I want to kiss you til you beg... put your knees up on your shoulders and bury myself inside you until you can't speak straight. I want to... make you cum... until those pretty little legs of yours start to shake. I wanna taste your mouth when you start to cry my name, taste the juices you drip for me."

She moaned in response, teasing herself with her fingertips and imagining his tongue and fingers in place of her hand. His admission made her even wetter. She slipped a finger inside her warm center, her hips shuddering from her own sudden advances. She started a perfect, slippery rhythm, licking her lips and gasping often when she realized she kept forgetting to breathe. " I wanna watch those pretty eyes of yours roll back in your head while I suck your nipples and fill you up, " he finished, increasing the speed of his pace.

" Mmm, you know I like that, " she whispered, curving her finger and teasing her sweet spot. She used her thumb to massage her clit, spreading her juices about until her lips were glistening. Her mouth fell open and she gasped softly, her toes curling.

" I bet you look so beautiful right now, " Rick murmured, kneading himself and wishing he could feel her wrapped around him rather than his hand. An unexpected giggle left Michonne's lips and it made his cheeks flush.

" Do you want a picture of me? " she asked, and a chill raced down his spine.

" Y-yes, " he stammered, no doubt in his mind, and a moment later, his phone vibrated against his ear.

" If you ever show that to anyone, I'll kill you, Rick Grimes, " she whispered before he reluctantly pulled the phone away and glanced down at its brightly lit screen:

 _New Picture Message_

 _Michonne Walker_

 _Open □ Read Later □_

No way in hell was he going to open it later.

He pressed the center button and the envelope unfolded.

And there she was. Every time he saw her face, she was even more beautiful than the last time he laid eyes upon her. _How's that even possible?_ , he thought. His grip tightened as he eyed the photo, eagerly searching ever inch of her photographed body. She lay on her back, stretched out comfortably on her king size bed. She had taken the picture of herself in birds eye, giving him a view of her body as she lay there pleasuring herself, her locs around her face. She had not revealed anything too graphic or x-rated, and it left him pining, but her plump lips were unmistakable at the top of the photo, parted slightly and heart-shaped, perfectly moisturized and pursed, and silently begging to be kissed.

A silky thin sheet as white as fresh snow was pulled over her torso and her skin popped beautifully against it, her dark nipples visibly hard beneath the fabric. At the very bottom of the picture, the sheet rode up just enough to reveal her hand between her legs, covering the bare apex of her thighs. The image cut off where her knuckles started, revealing nothing more, and Rick knew that her fingers were covered in her juices, buried deep inside her; the way he wished to be.

His mouth watered fiercely. The picture she had sent was not only the sexiest he had ever had the pleasure of seeing, it was the best gift he had ever received as well. _God, she's so beautiful,_ he thought. Her photograph deserved to be printed glossy and wide, hung up and put on display in the center of an art gallery on a spotless wall for every eye to appreciate and ogle... but he would never share it. He would keep her beauty all to himself. He was going to cherish this.

No woman had ever gifted or entrusted him with such a possession before. He was going to cherish this photo of her for as long as he was able. His phone vibrated again, this time while he stared down at her picture. He blinked at the notification.

Another picture message from Michonne.

He licked his lips in anticipation and pressed the center button again.

The little envelope opened to reveal undeniably beautiful Michonne again, posed in striking perfection. Instead of laying on her back, she was on her stomach now, her pretty legs raised behind her and bent at the knee, her snowflake sheets wrapped around her tightly, her cleavage shining from a layer of sweat he ached to lick from her skin.

Her mouth were the center of attention in this picture. Between her parted lips was her long, slender finger, her nail painted a deep blood red, her fingertip pressed to her wet tongue. Rick felt his chest tighten. She had the most alluring mouth, just the peek of her tongue enough to drive him insane. He quickly lifted the phone to his ear again.

" I was right, " he said shyly, his throat dry. He cleared it roughly and she started to giggle again, her soft, lilting laughter giving him goosebumps and making him stutter. " Y-you do look beautiful. "

" I bet you say that to all the pretty girls who send you sexy pictures, " she said. Rick swallowed hard and literally began to shake his head in reply, as if she was there to see the gesture.

" No. No, you're the only one. You're the only woman that's ever sent me a picture like that... I've never done this with anyone. " She started to laugh harder. " What? " he asked, smiling. How he had missed that laugh.

" Are those really the first tasteful nudes anyone has ever sent you? " she asked.

" Yes... first nudes, period, actually, tasteful or not. "

" Wow, " she whispered, shocked yet again by his lack of experience when it came to matters of the bedroom and activities that stemmed from such things. His naiveté was quite adorable actually, and she couldn't deny that despite his inexperience, he was somehow the best at pleasing her; the only man that had ever taken the time to completely ravish her, to find every spot of pleasure, to finely tune her and play her gently like an instrument until she sang for him. " I like being the first... Which picture is your favorite?, " she asked out of simple curiosity and it was Rick's turn to laugh.

" How the hell am I supposed to choose? Jesus, Michonne, you always look good. I... I wish you were here. " She smiled at his soft-spoken honesty, wishing the same, and that she could lay beside him and feel the heated touch of his strong hands on her bare skin- feel his warm breath wash over her.

" Me too, " she replied, switching her phone to speaker mode and resting it beside her head on her floral silk pillows. " I'm still wet, " she whispered in near fascination, curving her hand around her thigh and sinking two fingers inside her dripping core. A throaty moan escaped her and she licked her lips, finding her clit with her other hand and massaging herself clumsily as her pleasure made her hands shake in anticipation. " Suddenly I'm curious about the way I taste... , " she murmured, " You seem to like it a lot..."

Rick tried to steady his breath, but he was so immensely turned on by the thought of her being so aroused that she had started to think about the way she tasted, her curiosity on the subject making him recall his knowledge of the very thing she was so inquisitive about. He had to lower the phone and catch his breath, his cock hardening even further somehow, his precum wetting his palm. And all he could think about was tasting her again.

" I do, " he murmured huskily at last, lifting the phone to his ear again. " More than anythang. You always taste so sweet... wish I could have a taste right now... Right this minute. " He thought about the flavor she left when she came on his tongue; how tangy and luscious she was when her body shuddered and she spilled her nectar. Rick readjusted his grip and massaged himself roughly, grunting and gnawing at his lip.

He closed his eyes as a drop of sweat cascaded down his bare chest and it felt like she was there with him, grinding that perfect pussy against him, making him work hard for her pleasure. He could almost feel her fingers in his hair; feel the way she tugged at his curls when she climaxed around him, screaming his name. He groaned again. He would do anything to hear her say his name. He listened to her moans, wishing that it was her mouth instead of his phone pressed to his ear. " Fuck, Michonne, " he grumbled, his eyes rolling. She started giggling, yet again. " Stop that. Even that laugh of yours is driving me crazy. "

" I meant what I said about those pictures, Mr. Grimes. I'll kill you if you show anyone."

" I believe you, " he murmured. " Wouldn't blame you either; I'd deserve it. " He would never share those pictures with another soul.

" Shhh, " she whispered suddenly and Rick grew quiet at her command, the phone pressed tightly to his ear so that he couldn't possibly miss a second of her voice, of her bliss-filled sounds as she gave herself pleasure. He used the opportunity to focus on his own, kneading himself closer and closer to the edge, her moans fueling him.

She began to gasp, her fingers stroking and rubbing her clit, spreading her juices, her hand working overtime. Rick was much better at this. Her toes curled at the thought of him laying on his stomach and feasting between her thighs, running those slow licks over her clit that always made her tremble. Michonne opened her legs wider, her big, tired brown eyes fluttering closed. She sighed audibly and arched her body as she imagined Rick's thick fingers inside of her rather than her own; visualized his warm, teasing tongue on her nipples in place of the flicks of her thumb. " O-oh fuck, " she whispered, lifting her head as her core began to clench, the heavy, aching warmth that pooled between her thighs begging to be coaxed from her.

Her phone slid towards her ear as the first wave of euphoria waited, warning her with a knowing tingle before it crashed over her completely. " I'm gonna c-cum, " she whimpered and at that, she did, shuddering and moaning as her climax rushed over her and coursed through her every vein, every nerve, shattering her existence for a moment until all she knew was pleasure and nothing else, unable to even think straight as her body trembled through every wave. And Rick sat stunned, stroking himself harder while he listened to all the sexy sounds that left her mouth, wishing her lips were pressed against his- that he could see her face when she lost control.

" Say my name, " he whispered, attempting to sound demanding and failing, his tone closer to a plea. " Say my name, Michonne, " he begged.

" _Rick,"_ she breathed, her fingers soaked and still moving, caressing her clit as her body shook from her orgasm, her lips and hips trembling, his name a whimper. She teased her hardened nipples, pinching them sharply and intensifying her pleasure until her eyes rolled closed and she started to gasp. " _Oh, R-Rick. Rick. "_

Instantly, just as he always did when she was there, when she was tightening around him, when she purred his name the way she did, he was hopeless. He envisioned her writhing beneath him, wrapped around him, creaming for him and sinking her nails into his skin, her stunning face contorted in rapture. His jaw clenched at the delicious thoughts and he groaned, beating off to the images of her in his mind, in his phone. " _Oh, mon Dieu, oui. Oui..._ , " Michonne hummed in that throaty French purr that sealed his fate and Rick let go powerfully, groaning loudly as he spilled himself over and painted his thighs and stomach, his breath shaky and his sweaty frame trembling, his hand sliding up and down his jerking length until his toes were curled.

They did not speak for a while, their silence comfortable as they floated down breathlessly from their shared high of self-gratification. Rick closed his eyes and listened while she steadied her breath. And he was still missing her, if not more in that moment.

" I've... never done that before, " he confessed when his breathing returned to a normal pace. Michonne smiled at his hushed tone and at his admission.

" Which part? " she asked, her eyes fluttering closed as she melted into her silken sheets. She was so absolutely sated, and completely relaxed for the first time during the stressful work week she'd had. And she knew it wasn't just from getting off. She had pleasured herself alone countless times before and she never felt like this afterwards. Rick chuckled softly in her ear and she followed his lead, giggling in return.

" That's definitely not the first time I've touched myself but,... I've never done it... over the phone with anyone. " He blushed, thinking about how much he had just enjoyed himself, getting off while he listened to her moan his name and make herself come. His blush deepened when she started giggling again. He wished he could see her. He loved that sated look on her face after their strenuous lovemaking sessions, how ravishing she was with heavy-lidded eyes and pursed lips, sticky, gleaming skin and a husky whisper that made his hair stand on end.

" Rick Grimes, you sweet, innocent man. I may just be a bad influence on you, " Michonne said, sweeping fallen locs from her face and smiling. She rose naked from her bed, her phone pressed to her ear, and she traipsed off to the bathroom to wash her hands, eyeing and smiling at her glowing reflection in the mirror.

" I'm not complainin', " Rick replied, grabbing a hand towel from his master bathroom and cleaning up the mess he had made. " I'm not as innocent as you think, Michonne, but please, do continue to influence me. " He tossed the towel into his dirty laundry hamper and walked back to his bedroom, sitting down on the bed's edge and hoping to keep Michonne on the phone just a little while longer.

" I will, " she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. " I'm excited about tomorrow. " Rick chuckled.

" Are you excited about seein' me or excited about meetin' Carl? " he asked, scratching his beard absentmindedly.

" Wouldn't you like to know. "

" I would. "

" Both, " she whispered and he could tell she was smiling that radiant smile of hers. " One just a little more than the other. " She yawned and it was the cutest sound Rick had ever heard. " I've got one more picture for you. In case you want something a little more tame for my contact info in your phone. " She giggled sleepily and a moment later, Rick was gazing at a picture of Michonne that made his heart pound.

She had it taken the night they met; he could tell. She was in the bar where they had met and danced and flirted and kissed, glancing back over her perfect shoulder with a glass of white wine in her hand and a radiant smile on her stunning face.

" This was... right before we met, " he murmured. _I'm the luckiest man alive._

" My last few moments without the pleasure of knowing Mr. Rick Grimes. Crazy, right? "

" The pleasure's all mine, Michonne. " He smiled when he heard her yawn again. " Get some rest. We've got a big day tomorrow. " Michonne smiled groggily.

" Goodnight, Rick, " she purred.

" 'Night, Michonne. " He listened to her end their call and he sighed. Laying down, he pulled the sheets up to his chin and stared at her pictures admiringly, scanning back and forth through the collection until he drifted off to sleep, phone in hand.

~•°•~

 **Friday**

A spritz of perfume that smelled of fresh earth and tree bark and redolent fruits and she was ready. Michonne took a few steps back and admired her statuesque form in the body-length mirror, caressing her favorite coconut and shea lotion into her skin until it sparkled. She twirled a bit, eyeing her outfit of choice and turning around to examine her ass in her favorite highwaist Levi cutoffs. She hadn't worn them in years and still they fit, hugging every curve of her round backside perfectly in midwash bright blue cotton. To complete the summery ensemble, she added her high neckline brown crop top, missing the belly piercing she had in college as she straightened the cutouts to allow a peek of her toned obliques.

After fastening the miniature buckles of her strappy brown leather heeled sandals, she added a thin, gold bangle and gold earrings in hoops the size of a quarter to adorn her limbs and ears with. She tucked her phone and billfold into her back pockets and checked her makeup one last time, running her fingertip over her shaped brows. Her lashes looked impossibly long and enviably thick beneath two coats of plumping mascara, her eyes bright with accents of gold shadow speckled in the innermost corners, her lips appearing even fuller with a coat of sparkling lip gloss atop them.

Michonne smiled at last at her reflection, even more satisfied than usual at the woman she saw before her. She reached up and unclasped the butterfly clip that trapped her locs, her hair tumbling down and falling over her bare shoulders. She smoothed her thick tresses and readjusted a few of the beads, exhaling when an abrupt wave of nausea and a persistent little party of butterflies tickled her insides. Her cheeks warmed.

She had to admit to herself that she was indeed missing him; that their conversation the night before had, without a doubt, been the highlight of her week. Michonne loved to hear his voice in her ear- to hear his laugh through the phone... feel his arousal without even being in his company. She heard that throaty whisper of his that she loved when he pleaded with her to say his name, his accent thick and pronounced, enticing and undeniably sexy.

Not only was it delightful to hear him pleasure himself and orgasm over the phone just for her, but she was beginning to realize that speaking to Rick was something that relaxed her so expertly that she had slept for a full eight hours for the first time in weeks. Just the sound of his voice alone was a solace. She had never met someone that has such an impact on her so quickly. And now the closeness she felt towards him was drawing her out of her apartment and into her car.

The drive to the Zoo Atlanta was quite a short one from her uptown apartment and Michonne hummed to her favorite smooth jazz collection along the way, maneuvering through the congested lanes of evening traffic. All the while, she tried to concentrate on the sensual, soothing saxophone solo filling her ears, trying to calm the unwelcome butterflies flitting in the depths of her belly. She almost didn't quite understand why they were there in the first place, but the pestering tickles had persisted for an hour now and... she didn't remember feeling like this about a man this early on in a relationship before. She pursed her lips as she came to a stoplight.

Was she in a relationship?

They hadn't known each other for very long... but she wouldn't deny that she liked him. What a whimsical moment it had been; to be in the same club by chance that night, meeting and dancing and fitting together perfectly, their gazes connecting with silent understanding and awe at the spark they both felt igniting between them, warm and tempting. She couldn't deny its presence; couldn't dismiss the way he was making her feel. Something about him was special.

She knew by the way he had gently touched her as they moved in sync that night on the dancefloor, the way he had blushed and lost his breath when she kissed him in front of everyone. And he had been such a gentleman when they left the bar, opening every door for her, asking her about herself and touching her only when she asked, just the way she liked... and he was such an animal beneath the sheets, with an unmatched ability to make her melt- to lift her soul.

Reaching up, Michonne tucked a fallen dreadlock behind her ear and stroked the tress between her fingers, smirking to herself at the pictures she had boldly sent him in hopes of rendering him momentarily speechless and extremely turned on.

Mission accomplished.

She concluded that she did miss him. She missed that mischievous and handsomely crooked smile; missed the charming southern twang on his skilled tongue. She missed the sound of his hearty chuckle, the way the skin around his aquamarine eyes wrinkled from his laughter. She missed his awful jokes and the innocent puppy-like tilt of his head. She missed the way his breathtaking kisses tasted, the way his choked moans rumbled in his throat when her lips were pressed to his pulse and he was buried deep inside her...

 _Alright, alright,_ she told herself, _I miss him; I admit it... And I can't wait to see him again,_ she found herself thinking just as she turned onto Georgia Ave Southeast and Zoo Atlanta came into view. Her heart leapt into her throat, beating wildly in her chest and catching her off guard. She hadn't felt this way in a long time; for as long as she could remember and it was making her feel rather uneasy... until she parked her Lexus and walked through the zoo entrance, scanning the faces for the now familiar one that set her heart, and elsewhere, aflame.

She spotted Rick long before he noticed her in return. He was standing near the front desk, gazing down lovingly at his son, his hand on the back of Carl's neck as he smiled down at him. The young boy was speaking exuberantly, his lips moved a mile a minute, his elation obvious, and Rick listened intently, nodding occasionally and laughing often. As Michonne approached, she could see the wrinkles nestled around to Rick's charming and dazzling blue eyes, and the grey in his thickening beard- the pale pink of those lips when he smiled.

He glanced up suddenly, as if he felt her near, and he met her gaze from feet away. She drew closer to them and immediately, a rosy flush spread beneath his tanned skin and over every inch of him, his reaction obvious. He blinked slowly, light brown lashes fluttering in the sun's light. With a lingering stare, he licked his lips, his eager eyes noticeably traveling from her mouth, to her cleavage, and then down to her bare legs and exposed toes and back up again.

The sun had remained hidden for the long span of her absence and now that she was near him once more, the clouds, as grey as his sprouting beard, were parting ways at last and the glorious Sun reappeared before his very eyes, beaming just as joyously as he was. He swallowed hard, his Adams apple bobbing, and sapphire blue met deep quartz brown. Michonne finally came to stand before him.

She smiled confidently at Rick, her eyes sparkling vividly, and his stomach flopped. He couldn't find words amongst the scattered pieces of his currently quite fragile ego. He stammered, making her smile widen, and she tucked a dread behind her adorned ear before turning to regard Carl with eager curiosity.

" Hi, " she greeted, and Carl turned, glancing up and grinning at her, smile full of boyish charm. Michonne couldn't resist smiling even harder. He was even more adorable in person. Freckles she hadn't noticed sprinkled his little nose and his lashes were translucent in the light and impossibly long, exactly like his fathers. His hair flipped like the seas dance and his eyes were the color of their waves. She liked him instantly and as cliche as it seemed, she actually wanted to pinch his little flushed and freckled cheeks.

" Hi!, " he replied enthusiastically. " Are you Michonne? I hope you're Michonne. My dad won't stop talking about you. " Michonne laughed and Rick's blushing intensified.

" Carl, this is Michonne, " Rick started, and Michonne was delighted to hear that southern twang again, heavy and throaty- a deep rumbling in his chest. She held out her hand and took the small one the little boy offered, surprised by his rather firm handshake, especially for such a tiny hand and a young man. " She's my-..." Rick paused and looked up, fluttering those lashes at her a few more heartbreaking times. He was visibly nervous, his blue eyes pleading and silently asking for her support. Michonne understood.

She moved closer, stopping beside Rick and reaching out to him. Their hands met and their fingers intertwined naturally, that familiar, tingling warmth returning when they touched. His hand was rough and strong in hers, his thumb stroking the back of her fingers. His blush remained and Michonne smiled to herself, amused by the warmth that spread across her face, and by her ability to hide the evidence of her own reaction beneath her dark complexion.

" Girlfriend? " his son asked, shifting his focus from Michonne to his father. Michonne smirked. She couldn't seem to stop smiling.

" Yeah, I think that's a pretty good word for it, " she said, causing the redness under Rick's facial hair to deepen even further somehow. She nearly started to giggle.

" Didn't you already have a sort of girlfriend? " Carl asked and Rick tilted his head adorably.

" No, this... This is different, Carl. " Carl smiled again.

" Okay. Cool. As long as you're happy. You seem happier, Dad ."

" I think I am, " Rick said, his lips curving into a satisfied smile. He glanced over at Michonne and she squeezed his hand, comforted alone by the heat of him, his warm fingers interlacing with hers.

" You ready? " she asked, glancing from Rick to Carl. " Let's go have some fun. " Both of the Grimes boys nodded and the trio set off to pay admission and explore the zoo.

~•°•~

" Look! He's waving! , " Carl exclaimed, flailing his hand back at the seemingly polite gorilla introducing himself from his seated position amongst the brush of his enclosure.

" It says here that they're trying to teach these gorillas sign language, " Michonne announced, reading one of the zoo's abundant signs. " I wonder if this one would understand me if I signed to him. " Rick and Carl raised their eyebrows simultaneously in disbelief, glancing in each other's direction. Michonne turned to Rick with a beaming smile on her face and the sight of her made his heart flutter. " Watch, " she said.

She whirled around again and walked to the edge of the enclosure, raising her hands a bit and waving until she had alerted a few of the gorillas. She began to sign simply, waiting for a reply, and when one came, she gasped in delight, smiling over her shoulder at Rick in elation as he watched in awe.

 _She really is perfect_ , he mused. _Smart and beautiful and sweet and sexy and..._

His eyes traveled over her and he stopped being able to think clearly.

" I asked him what he likes to eat, " Michonne let them know. Rick grinned. She always seemed to be talking about food. It was one of the many endearing things he liked about her.

" What'd he say? " Rick asked.

" He wouldn't tell me. Just told me to shut up! " Michonne giggled. Carl snickered. Rick frowned.

" Is that right? Well, now I'm mad, " Rick grumbled. She turned and pouted adorably and he cursed inwardly at her ability to erase and ease his mind all at once.

" Why? " It took him a little while to respond.

" I ain't gonna stand here and let a damn gorilla be rude to my woman. C'mon. " Michonne burst out laughing and Rick wrapped his arm around her waist and led her away. She glanced down at chuckling, trailing Carl as they all walked off together, thrilled by Rick's bad attitude and the ensuing insults directed at primates, all in honor of his new flame.

~•°•~

Watching a very distracted Carl set off to marvel over the towering giraffes and neighboring zebras in a field, Rick took the opportunity to have a moment alone with Michonne. He pulled her into a dark corner of an indoor exhibit, his hand stroking her from her neck to her hip as she studied the exotic birds nearby, admiring their colors and witty exclamations. They shrieked compliments and slander and Michonne laughed at them, reciprocating with ' _thank you_ 's and ' _aren't you rude_ 's. She turned and smiled at him Rick when she noticed how awfully quiet he was, his face inches from hers and catching her a little off guard for a fleeting moment.

" Hey you, " she whispered, lifting her hand as his lips inched closer, her fingers finding his curls precisely when his lips found hers. He moaned softly the moment their mouths met, closing his lips over her bottom one before pulling back and tasting her top lip just the same. Michonne pressed closer, clinging to his hair and offering her tongue to him. Rick was smitten with her every facet. How had he survived the longest week of his life? He wished he didn't have to cease kissing her just to speak. If only he could do both.

" You're good at distracting me, " he finally said when he was capable of doing so, breathless from the way her tongue had just danced into his mouth. " I've been meanin' to thank you. For talking the Remington's out of-. " Michonne raised a finger to his lips.

" Shh, " she cooed, slipping her tongue back into his mouth again and he melted like butter, helpless for a long moment and paralyzed into a nearly drooling state by the feel of her plump, wet lips against his and her sweet saliva gliding down his throat. He started to tingle.

" You look amazing, " he murmured in her ear when he pulled away once more, his reluctance evident. " I really like these. " He caressed her lower back with his rough thumb slowly, his other fingers lightly tickling her skin and reaching inside her shorts. Michonne felt herself tremble unexpectedly, goosebumps forming and spreading like the shiver that scampered across her skin despite the almost triple digit weather.

" They're just cutoffs, " she whispered back, her breath catching in her throat when he pulled her closer. She glanced around bashfully, her cheeks warming when she realized they were alone in such a public place, Carl within eye shot and only a few feet away. He was climbing up a treehouse-like exhibit in hushed fascination, so as not to wake the sleeping owls and the nestling babies that had captured his attention.

" Hmm. That's a good idea, " Rick said, his tone still murmurous, yet still rumbling deep in his chest and reverberating into her, her breasts pressed against him and his fingers still caressing the dimples at the small of her back.

Michonne could feel the frenetic pounding of his heartbeat, her own thumping in time just the same, their drumming making for a rhythmic, sensual beat. Rick blushed, gazing at her with a hunger in his cerulean eyes, and Michonne smiled as she watched the color spread across his tanned skin, from his cheeks to his neck; to hide underneath his tight brown t-shirt. Her fingers were still tangled in his curly nape and she began to massage his scalp, prompting a shudder from him. Neither of them could focus on their attempt at conversation. She had missed him. And he had missed her.

She pulled him roughly by his sweaty curls and kissed him hard, his mouth eager when she pressed her lips to his. She loved the way he reacted to her forwardness; the way he had when she met him at the club and kissed him on the dance floor. The deepening of his blush her favorite of all, the way his breath rushed through his nose as though he had forgotten how to breathe altogether, his dick hardening in his tight and faded black jeans. Their tongues met once more and began a slippery affair and they moaned, sucking at each others lips until they were both breathless all over again. Michonne pulled away slowly and opened her eyes, trying to recall his statement.

" What? " she asked, stifling a giggle at her bout of confusion. She glanced over Rick's shoulder to keep an eye on Carl, who was curiously watching the sleeping owls a few feet away, intrigue painted on his little face. Michonne turned her eyes back to Rick, who was still distracted by her. He looked so utterly intoxicated by her presence alone, his lids heavy and his pink lips turned up into a knowing smile.

" You called them cutoffs, " Rick replied, his hand now over her shorts, his fingers splayed across her firm, round ass. " That's what I wanna do with 'em. Cut them off. " Michonne shook her head, her locs swaying, and she accidentally shuddered when Rick raised a hand and weaved his fingers into her hair, stroking her scalp and making her moan when he guided her lips to his.

" You already ruined a pair of my favorite panties, Rick, " she murmured, still attempting at conversation, though, she too, was becoming a bit intoxicated by him as well, the scent of his sweat and earthy cologne making her mouth water and her walls clench deliciously. He had grown his beard out since she last saw him, and when his graying facial hair tickled her lips and chin, she imagined his mouth pressed to her clit, the petting of his beard against her enough to make her cum. She suddenly wished that they were in his bed... " You're not cutting up my favorite cutoffs, " she continued, resisting the urge to graze his growing erection with her painted fingernail, just to purposefully drive him wild. " I made a lot of high school memories in these. " Rick's eyebrows raised a fraction.

" High school? " he murmured huskily. " And they still fit like this? " His eyes wandered over her, and it made her feel beautiful. " Have you always been so perfect? " he said.

~•°•~

" Do you really like my dad? " Carl asked Michonne abruptly, surprising her mid-lick with her tongue sticking out. She blinked, batting her eyelashes innocently. They were standing together on a little bridge, watching the fish below as they enjoyed the ice cream cones they'd bought at the concession stand.

" Of course, I do. I like your dad a lot..." She stopped and eyed him dubiously while he ate his Big Kat Crunch ice cream, the double scoops already melting rapidly in the July heat and dribbling onto his fingers as he clutched the waffle cone. His mouth was framed and stained with chocolate and it made Michonne smile. " Why do you ask? " she wondered aloud after a long pause.

" I just don't want him to be lonely, " he murmured, shifting his eyes to make sure his father wasn't returning quite yet. " Since him and my mom divorced, he's been alone. He's always sad. Well, 'cept for when I see him, I guess. But I know he drinks when he's by himself... " Carl cast his gaze down. " My mom is with Shane now. He's my dad's partner at the station. And... my mom seems really happy. But... I don't think my dad's last girlfriend made him very happy. Every time I saw them together, he still looked sad. I hated it. I guess he just didn't wanna be alone anymore. "

Michonne's eyes were full of heavy tears and when she blinked, they tumbled down her cheeks. She wiped them away quickly with the back of her hand, her bangles clattering down her arm. Knowing that she had brought Rick company and happiness, especially just after such a difficult experience in his life, made her heart swell. Carl looked up at her and searched her eyes. " I haven't seen him smile this much in a really long time and I can tell it's 'cause of you... so...thanks. " Michonne swallowed the lump in her throat and smiled softly.

" You don't have to thank me, " she whispered just as she noticed Rick returning with his ice cream cone. " I'm glad I make your dad happy..." She shifted her gaze from son to father as Rick approached them, a smile brightening his face when he saw her watching him. "...He makes me happy too. "

~•°•~

" Hey, Michonne?, " Rick called over his shoulder and his girlfriend turned with a twirl of her dreads to eye him with a curious smile.

The trio was standing in the brightly lit and far too cold gift shop of the zoo, browsing and exploring the aisles of overpriced stuffed animals and bright, fuzzy knickknacks.

" What?, " she answered, approaching him. She linked her arm in his, her eyes visibly brightening when she regarded the item in his hand; a big, stuffed orange tiger with a cunning smirk and long, wiry whiskers. Her heart warmed.

" Do ya like it?, " Rick drawled, gazing down at her adoringly, his lashes fluttering again. " If ya like it, I wanna buy him for you. You really seemed to like those tigers. " He had noticed. Michonne smiled and he blushed, looking back down at the toy in his hands. " He's got those big, dark pretty as hell eyes... Jus' like you, " he whispered and it was her turn to blush.

" Stop that, " she murmured and Rick chuckled, meeting her gaze again.

" I can't, " he said, leaning down to press his lips to hers gently. " That's like askin' me to stop likin' you. Impossible. " His words were a staccato rhythm between each faint kiss, his warm breath washing over her and making her stomach flutter until she was practically swooning, clutching him and steadying herself against his solid chest. " You alright? " he asked, opening his eyes and supporting her weight with a sturdy hand on the small of her back. She opened her eyes and nodded, glancing back up at him and losing herself in his sapphire stare. She swallowed hard and ran her hand up his arm, her fingertips grazing the thick, throbbing vein that stretched down him arm like a river.

" C'mon, do you guys have to be so mushy out in public? ," Carl whined suddenly, startling the both of them out of their shared trance. Michonne scurried away, hiding behind her hair as Rick strolled away, bowlegged and carefree to pay for her stuffed tiger and Carl's stuffed deer. He smiled back at his son and his girlfriend when he was done, giving them their gifts and grabbing both of their hands to leave the zoo. Carl disconnected the chain long before they reached the parking lot, in high spirits about all the animals he had just seen. He bounced along the sidewalk in pursuit of their cars.

" Michonne! Did you miss the pandas?! They looked so cute! They just had two babies and they're twins! And the smallest one is-. " Michonne only half heard his sentence, the rumbling sound of an engine invading her senses, and suddenly everything before her was happening in slow motion. She glanced down at Carl, at his smiling face as he stepped down from the sidewalk onto the sweltering parking lot pavement in his little cowboy boots. His sky blue eyes were on hers, oblivious to the sparkling black SUV exceeding the speed limit and barreling towards him.

Michonne reacted so quickly that her own reflexes stunned her. Reaching out, she grabbed Carl by the arm and pulled him towards her with all her strength, yanking the little boy's body so roughly that his frame connected with hers in midair, knocking the both of them down onto the searing curbside with a slide and a thud.

" Carl, how could you be so careless?, " Michonne blubbered, tears streaming down the apples of her striking cheeks. She could hardly see his face, but she heard his sniffling and sobbing as they were both scooped up from the sidewalk by Rick and planted on their feet, cradled and caressed with care. " If something had happened to y-you- your dad would be so devastated. P-please be more careful. You have to be m-more careful... " She felt Rick's heated hand on her skin, stroking her arm with gentle regard. She blinked up at him, trying to clear her vision of the blur of tears that shrouded her eyes like a veil. Turning on her heel, she shifted and walked away, scurrying to her car and unlocking the door with fumbling fingers.

When she glanced back over her shoulder, she saw Rick kneeling before his son and staring into his eyes, speaking to him in a hushed, secretive tone, his hand a steadfast comfort on the little boys flushed neck. Rick wiped the tears from Carl's stained cheeks and smiled softly down at him, and it made Michonne's. heart swell. He pulled his son's small body into a hug, lifting him soon after with ease to carry him to the car, wrapping a protective arm around his little boy. He removed his sheriff's hat from his son's sweaty waves and placed it atop his own head while he opened the back door of Michonne's car and tucked him safely into a seat.

" I'll drive if you want me to, darlin', " Rick whispered in Michonne's ear, kissing her cheek and taking the keys from her offering hand. She nodded and climbed into the passenger side, and they drove off quietly together, leaving the zoo behind them.

~•°•~

As she had suspected, it took a long while for Carl to even remotely feel better. Michonne turned her head to check on him often as he rested in the spacious backseat of her Lexus. And as Rick drove, he noticed her unease. Watching her watch him made his heart feel fuzzy and the sensation startled him.

He turned his attention back to road and reached for her hand, easing down one of the backway roads into Kings County in the search for something to eat after their long evening at the zoo. His fingers found hers blindly and she interlaced them, squeezing his hand as she faced forward again. The sun was setting in their eyes and Rick could see that sweet tea color in her orbs again, bright beneath her curled eyelashes and luring him into a trance.

It was becoming almost impossible to focus on driving, watching the way her skin literally sparkled and glowed in the deep orange hue of the sunlight, her lips pouted in thought and silhouetted strikingly. God, he wanted to kiss her again.

" You good?, " he whispered with concern, her silence worrying him and when she met his gaze, he saw a tear and his heart clenched. He squeezed her hand.

" Later, " she said in faintest of tones, her fingers restless against her skin as she fiddled with her necklace. " I'll tell you later. "

~•°•~

If it was a mystery to him before, it wasn't now.

Michonne was amazing with children.

Just outside the county lines, they found a little Portuguese restaurant, and Michonne wanted to go there so badly that Rick could not refuse her. She had Carl feeling better in no time at all, making him laugh and dancing to upbeat bossa nova with him. They ate things Rick had never seen or tasted before, but damn, was it good, fed to him by her and he ate from her beautiful hands willingly, listening to the names of the foreign dishes that dripped from her tongue with ease as the bites of savory dishes melted on his. He listened to her stories, pouring her glasses of tawny port and watching the way Carl's eyes lit up when she made him chuckle.

They drove home in the twinkling dark, and Michonne watched the stars through her sunroof with Carl, naming the constellations for him and telling him the stories behind each one until he drifted off to sleep, sticky-faced and snoring, cuddling his stuffed deer closely. Rick carried his son to bed, helping him into his pajamas and tucking him in. Michonne brought her overnight bag inside and found them there, and she watched from the doorway as Rick knelt and kissed Carl's forehead. With tears in her eyes, she scampered away again, running upstairs to Rick's bedroom and hiding away in the bathroom to change into her negligee and brush her teeth while she cried.

When she left his master bath and returned to his room, she found him sitting there on his unmade bed, waiting for her in the dark. All the lights were off and only moonlight illumed them, their eyes shimmering and searching for each other. Rick watched Michonne climb into his bed, her pale pink nightie riding up on her thighs and sliding across her skin.

" Earlier... with Carl. I'm sorry," she murmured as she sat down, her gleaming shoulders slumped, her head bowed. Her dreadlocks swung free, the thin gold headband she wore no longer sweeping them away from her face- and now they lay framing her features, her cheeks pronounced, her eyes hidden in the shadows of her tresses. Rick reached for her, his fingers grasping her gently in an attempt to pull her closer. But she wouldn't budge.

" That wasn't your fault, Michonne," he whispered, stroking her warm skin and scooting closer to her, aching to relieve her of the pain he could see when he looked into her eyes. " Why are you apologizin'? That asshole was drivin' over thirty in a fifteen. In a parking lot. Even after passin' a 'Watch For Pedestrians' sign, too. " Rick paused and moved closer, coming to sit on the bedside with her, their bare legs pressed together. " You saved Carl and you made him feel better tonight too. I'm in debt to you for that. You don't have to apologize for anythang. "

" I panicked, " Michonne murmured, turning to face him, wide-eyed and clearly upset. " I frightened him. With the things I said; I could tell. Why did I say those things? " She turned away abruptly , her body tending and her voice breaking, and she burst into sudden tears, the tremor of her heartfelt weeping pulsating through him and shattering his heart like glass.

" Michonne?," he called to her, his voice cracking with pure, unadulterated concern, and there was a long silence that hung in the air around them until she spoke again.

" Rick ," she croaked.

" Yes? " he replied without hesitation.

" Do you remember when we met... what you said about me when it your your turn to play our guessing game? " Rick searched his mind and recovered the memory quickly, recalling the night they met and each moment of bliss between them.

" I do, " he said softly, a curl tumbling down to fall into his eye when he nodded.

" And you said you would be a shoulder to cry on for me too..., right? "

" Yes. Yes, Michonne, " he answered, drawing closer. " Please tell me what's wrong. "

" You were right about me," she whispered, afraid to say anything too loudly, even to him. She was afraid to say anything at all. " ... I used to be a mother. " Rick stiffened, perplexed by her confession.

" U-used to be? " His heart sank, so weighted with so much immediate sorrow that he felt the aching deep in his stomach. He waited patiently for Michonne to continue, listening to her exhale a wobbly breath. She reached up and swiped her tears away forcefully, flinging the droplets of brine down onto her lap and the carpet beneath her bare feet. With another sigh, she finally began to explain.

" About a year ago, my ex boyfriend and I started having a bunch of nasty fights that led to our breakup. We were together for five years, which is a really long time, but... I don't think I loved him anymore. He... changed. So much. I couldn't stand him anymore. His habits. His routines. The way he talked to me. Mike, " she said, and she spit the name out like poison. Rick noticed the way her voice changed when she said that name. " His name is Mike. Soon, we were literally arguing over everything. Including our three year old son. " She met Rick's gaze and smiled a little at the thought of him. " His name is Andre. He watched us fight day in and day out. Watched his father waste away on drugs until we hardly recognized him anymore. And he started to say the most awful things; I couldn't take it. He'd tell me he would find a way to get full custody of Andre and make sure I never saw him again. Cruel things, just to hurt me, I thought, but he meant it. "

Her body slumped and she broke down rapidly, sobbing and nearly falling over. Rick rushed to her as she collapsed into his embrace, clutching her and holding her tight as she cried, and when the tears subsided again, she continued.

" We finally split up. Finally. I moved into my own apartment uptown and Mike and I worked out a schedule with the family court for us to see our son. But it wasn't enough for him I suppose. He fought me in custody battles, lied about me to his attorneys. Said I dealt drugs out of my apartment. " She looked up at Rick. " He even planted some there! Tried to make me look like a dealer. Harassed me with threatening phone calls in the middle of the night. He did whatever he could to debase me. "

Listening to Michonne talk about this Mike made him so angry that he could feel his blood begin to reach its boiling point. He clenched his fist. If only he could talk to this _Mike;_ just a simple, little talk... He couldn't believe anyone could ever treat Michonne in such a way. His fingers twitched anxiously in rage, his temper only calmed when she brushed her skin against his and accidentally batted her eyelashes at him. She was gorgeous even in the wake of bawling. He thumbed a tear from her apple cheeks.

Michonne wiped her eyes and kept going despite the way her sobs were rocking her tiny frame. And Rick held her closer. " So... soon the court granted me full custody and I filed a restraining order. I thought everything was going to be okay... "

This time when she broke down, her tears did not cease for a long time, and Rick just kept on holding her, rocking her, consoling her, until she found the strength to continue. " One day, back in late March, I dropped Andre off at his preschool and that was the last time I ever saw him. I went after work to pick him up and he was gone. Just gone. No one knew how to explain anything to me. I went to Mike for his help and found his house empty. He just vanished and my Peanut! My baby, Rick, he was gone! And the police told me they don't even know if the two incidents are related! They searched for him, they searched for them both but they never do it for long! I haven't heard a thing for months and people tell me every day to give up. That Andre is just another one of those missing children now but I see him everywhere. " Michonne looked up and stared into Rick's eyes. " I see him everywhere. I talk to him... but I know he isn't there. And everyone thinks I'm crazy. Everyone pushed me back into my routine, back into my life, but I don't even know what this life is anymore without him! "

Rick felt the precise moment a new burden was added to the weight of the ones already laden on his heart, but he knew he would bare this for her without resistance; felt the tears that followed close behind the realization, hand in hand to welcome him.

She had locked this secret away and was still strong enough to keep going on; working, living her life, and doing things for others. His admiration for her grew a hundred times over and he felt his heart pounding; aching, deep in his chest.

" Oh, Michonne, " he croaked, his eyes welling and bursting like a weak dam. He dragged her into his lap until she wrapped her entire body around him and wept into the crook of his neck, her tears wet on his skin, her shoulders trembling as she cried. He held her for hours, rocking her softly and kissing her skin, caressing her hair as heartwrenching sobs shook her very soul and reverberated into his.

And when her cries diminished, he tenderly cupped her face in his hands, staring down into her weeping brown eyes. His thumbs caught a few more of her tears and he wiped them away, leaving shiny, sparkling streaks and watching more bead up in their place and stick to her lashes. Their lips met timidly and Rick tasted her tears, sighing and pulling her closer until her every curve was flush against him. Her hands craved his curls like a longing instinct, and she weaved her fingers into his copper ringlets and parted her mouth over his, inhaling his earthy scent and sugary taste.

Rick pulled back slowly and opened his eyes, his lips hovering over hers when he spoke. Michonne stared up at him, lost in the dark until she found his gaze; deep, crystalline turquoise pools with rippling, teary waves, and she was adrift, lost at sea. His next words made her heart swell with feeling.

" We met for a reason, Michonne. I know it... I feel it somewhere deep down inside me. In a place I haven't felt come alive in a long, long time. I'm gonna take care of you. You don't have to worry about feelin' alone anymore or feelin' like nobody needs you anymore. Do you remember when you said that to me? " Michonne nodded through her tears, clutching to him, aching to kiss him again, to thank him. " Well, I need you. " Michonne's lips quivered. He was making her feel so vulnerable. All the rickety walls she had built up over the past year were tumbling down and shattering, falling dispersed at her feet until the pain made her chest wrack with cries. She shook her head in reply. " I do, Michonne. I need you. And your son needs you. I'm gonna do everything I can to help you find your little boy; I don't care what it takes and you don't have to do anything in return for me. "

" Oh, Rick," she choked. " I... I -."

" Shh, it's alright. You don't have to say anything. " When he seized her mouth with his, sucking at her pillowy lips, she forgot how to breathe altogether, gasping and exhaling, moaning when he dipped his sweet tongue into her mouth. The way he was holding her, kissing her... she felt sheltered and warm, every inch of his skin hot against hers, his arms wrapped around her so securely that she never wanted to leave.

It was the first time in months that she felt genuinely safe.

And it felt like the first time they had ever kissed, their lips meeting for the first time with such raw vulnerability and honesty that should feel her heart begin to soar. She saw stars. Michonne squeezed her eyes shut and the tears fell again, but they were elated ones. For the first time, someone understood why she couldn't just let go of her Andre. Someone finally wanted to help her and wasn't telling her to give up and move on with her life without her Peanut. Why had it taken so long? Why had it taken so long for anyone to understand?

Maybe Rick was right. Perhaps they had met for a reason.

Michonne pulled him closer by his curls and it made him moan, his hands strong and hot and soothing on her skin as he kissed her softly and passionately, his jaw working overtime just to ensure he could suck at her every inch of her lips and tongue with expert fluidity. She could hardly breathe and she didn't care. She sighed, surrendering the last little exhale she could muster before she returned his kisses equally, melting in his arms and losing herself with him. She cried herself to sleep in his embrace and Rick watched over her, his revolver on the nightstand and his eyes on her until he drifted off into a deep, empty slumber right along with her...

* * *

 _**Excerpt From Chapter 6 of Midsummer Nights  
**_

 _Sleep was dreamless and carefree with Michonne curled up at his side, nuzzling him with sticky, tear-laden cheeks and her warm button nose._

Rick awoke in the night with a start, feeling empty without her and abruptly aching in her absence, and he was out of his bed before the sheets even rippled back into place.

4:59a.m, the alarm clock read from its perch on his nightstand.

Of course Michonne was awake. She was a fetching early riser- a stunning early bird. The sun wouldn't be up for at least an hour or two, but he didn't care. If sleep wasn't important to Michonne then it would be the very last thing on Rick's mind.

His home was covered in pale blue rays of bright summer moonlight, dancing in sneakily through the windows and past the drapes to shroud the rooms in dull white, like thin sheets of blankets. In its place beside his alarm clock, he found his old silver watch. Rick scooped it up smoothly and closed it around his wrist, preparing to begin his search for Michonne.

He checked his master bathroom suite first, idly wondering if she might be in the midst of her morning routine: brushing her teeth in front of her strikingly aesthetic and dollish reflection or scrubbing her naked, glossy self squeaky clean in his shower. But she was nowhere to be found, her purple toothbrush used, her little container of pink-and-blue pills opened and left behind, her gorgeous presence missing. Quickly and efficiently, Rick followed her lead, forced to wash up without her, and he hurried to brush his own teeth and head downstairs, his eyes scanning every empty corner for a glimpse of her when he finally dropped down into the lower level of his home.

After the events of the previous night, Rick felt inseparably bound to Michonne. She had spilled out her grief in bountiful tears that soaked into his skin; into his very being. And he had absorbed her worries and the intense sentiment of her sorrow so absolutely that it felt like a part of him now; a shimmer living and growing within in him.

To be endowed with the knowledge that he was the only one who truly knew the deep-seated and essential details of her life and its recent occurrences made him want to be as close to her as he possibly could- made him wish to pour his heart out to her in return. She made him yearn for the chance to be a knight in shining armor, granted the glorious glimpse of a warrior princess from afar and lured by her mystery.

A knight given the opportunity to rescue her from the perilous dragons of trepidation and misfortune that she fought off with a double edge sword as they loomed overhead, circling with threats of doom. He wanted to swoop in and pull her atop his gallant horse, driven by the desire to aide the intriguing maiden who could stand with her head high and her eyes fiery in the grotesque face of adversity. He would return just to conquer those dragons for her if she so desired. He wished to ride her off into the oil painting that was a magenta sunset, away from peril, whispering promises of safety and castles and royal babies.

And maybe she didn't even need his help- not in the slightest bit -but, oh, how he ached to give it. If she were to glance in his direction and offer her hand to ask for his, he would bound her way on horseback and take it in his happily. He would pull her up into his embrace and his saddle and never let go again. Rick's achy old heart melted at the very idea.

Michonne's catharsis was the most beautiful display of emotion he had ever seen. He didn't care about the weight of the beasts of burden she had shared with him, nor did he care about the life-altering empathy he felt and the great sadness she had bestowed on him, now resting heavily upon his squared shoulders. He would carry every bit of it for her, gladly and without a single protest. And doing so would be his honor. She deserved it.

" 'Chonne? " Rick announced himself gently, pining for her reply- for the melodious sound of her voice carrying on the air and returning his summoning call. He ached in the silent darkness without her for only a moment more.

" In here, " she said at last, her voice traveling from the main walk-in closet in his living room. He followed her voice like the clues of a treasure map and found her amongst his clothing, playing with sleeves and admiring the drab fabrics of his laundry and partial wardrobe. His police uniforms covered her pretty face, and she moved them aside to smile up at him, her large, captivating eyes somehow... innocent. She had taken his bleu denim shirt from its plastic dry-cleaning dwelling and adorned it, the sleeves too long for her willowy, sculptured arms.

His shirt hung from her petite frame, slipping down off of her shoulder and revealing the tantalizing skin of her elongated neck and carved collarbone. The tiny pendant on her gold initial necklace caught a glint of remnant moonlight and flashed across his eyes, lighting them a brilliant crystalline blue in the inky dark.

The sight of her stirred something inside him that he had not felt so fiercely in all the long week...

" You alright? " Rick asked, a faint smile curling up on pink, wanton lips. He looked down and noticed that Michonne held two pieces of fruit in her hands, what looked to be a ripe summer peach and a shiny, crimson apple, wrapped up in her long fingers like presents.

" I got hungry," she whispered, extending the hand with the apple in it and admiring it next to his near nakedness in the rays of the moon's light. And Michonne knew between the two options before her which appeared more appetizing... " I wanted a snack but... I couldn't decide which one to eat. " The better choice was becoming increasingly clear. Rick ambled into the closet and closed the door behind him, his movements soundless, his stride just as bowlegged as ever. She drew him in with her dagger gaze, ensuring that he saw her watching him.

Rick had desperately missed her company. There was nothing like being in an empty room with Michonne. He could feel her eyes on him. His heart began to race and he thought for certain he could feel its palpitations.

" I can help, " he said, his voice low and warm- and tempting. He made sure that the door was closed, and then he turned to face her. Michonne quirked a curious brow, a flash of intrigue sparking in her nearly-black eyes. She tried not to smile. His deep blue gaze bore through the darkness and into her. And the way Rick looked at her left her as ruffled and as timid as a school girl. She played coy despite it all, trying to hunt down some of the self control she had praised herself for in the past week.

" How? " she murmured while he inched closer all the while, and her breath caught in her throat as Rick reached for her hungrily, grasping her tiny waist with the most gentle hands she had ever felt on her. He lifted her without strain. With two fingers hooked behind her knee, he helped her wrap her long leg around the small of his back, and she hiked the other up and threw it around him urgently, anxious to be intertwined with him.

Her pink silk nightie inched up around her thighs and Rick pressed her back against the cold wall. Michonne gasped from the sensation of the frigid surface against her spine and the feel of his heat against her chest. Her breasts rose with the sharp inhale. She heard Rick's voice through the fog of lust and she moaned unintentionally, body awakening to him and only him, before anything else.

" Feed me your fruit, Michonne, " he murmured, his drawl suggestive and thick on his tongue- smooth in his throat like honey. She blinked her eyes to focus her sight on him, the sound of her name on his lips making her stomach churn, and then she lifted her peach to those well-favored lips and he opened his mouth wide, his tongue shiny and eager before he sank his teeth in. He took a large bite of its soft fleshy outer layer. The juices burst forth, trickling down and into his beard, settling and sparkling on his chin beneath his salt and copper-chocolate facial hair.

Rick grunted and Michonne dragged his mouth to hers. Those perfect pillowy lips meeting his with such wet bloodthirstiness lit his blood ablaze and sent it running hot and impassioned to his pulsing cock. He kissed her back, matching her fervency and fire roughly; holding no prisoners. Rick thoroughly devoured every centimeter of her mouth, engrossed in her kiss. He ached to imbibe her heady essence and intoxicating sweetness, and he appreciated every second it. Michonne liked having someone who knew how to worship her lips properly. His mouth was sticky and sweet and soothing.

They moaned in unison, sharing the fruit sloppily, and just like that, in a moment as quick as the twinkle of a star, they had begun to ache for each other together and all at once- so profoundly that it started to hurt.

Michonne could feel his growing erection, insanely hot and impossibly hard- stony enough to pain her. He was moaning quietly and groping her needily, stiffening on her thigh and the soft mound of her hungry sex, his boxers in the way of them being flesh to flesh the way they both desired.

She squirmed, wreathing patterns into his curls with twisting fingers and rubbing herself against him greedily, just to taunt him. She didn't understand the feelings she was currently experiencing, and she wasn't going to waste her time deciphering them. She kissed him harder, gifting more tongue, and she made him hum with pleasure, and he sucked the juices of the peach from her lips, his heavy-lidded eyes falling closed as lust drowsied him the way it nearly blinded her. He pulled away to gasp a breath before wrapping his teeth around the lacy trim of her powder pink negligee and tugging the fabric down until her breasts spilled free. And then he lifted his mouth again- this time for a bite of apple, lips teasingly lingering above her nipple until her toes curls a little and she started to moan in a higher pitch.

With a pouted bottom lip, Michonne lifted the apple in her other hand and offered it to him. Rick nibbled off a piece, swallowing it slowly and spreading its sticky juice over her nipples with a lazy tongue. He suckled each one for as long as it took to make her eyes roll back into her swimming head and stay there. He had such an expert mouth, attentive and unwavering. She swooned into submission contently, her inner self stunned at how easily she gave into him.

Everything around her smelled of Rick. His clothing hung about her, seeping the scents of his sandalwood soap with a hint of smoky tobacco cologne and a sweet liqueur whiskey- of cinnamon bark and rich earth and salty sea, and it reminded her of the night they met. Those very aromas had trapped themselves in the curve of his neck, in the locs of his hair, and when she had kissed him there- when he was sliding himself inside her so unbearably slowly that she had all but sobbed sweet, thick tears- those smells had been an unexplainable comfort to her in every conceivable way. And on this day, after bearing her naked soul to him, she needed his comfort again more than anything else.

Suddenly, she had a mighty yen for him that she couldn't lose. It was like a nagging sweet tooth craving; like she was an addict yearning for their potent drug of choice. And he was hers, habit-forming and impossible to deny. Michonne could feel the hunger of her craving growing- felt it gnawing at her insides, flipping hysterically in her tummy. The unappeased appetite she knew would plauge her from the very beginning of their romance was eating away at what was left ofher self control- and it was continuing to grow stronger with each passing day.

It felt like so long since she had last had the pleasure of being satisfied by him. Michonne felt hollow without. Rick had an unmatched ability to mollify her afflicted mind- to heal some of the little breaks and rips in the seams of her heart- and to calm the dread that overwhelmed her. She had unexpectedly dreamt of him often during their long week apart; had touched herself to thoughts and dreams of him as she lay awake at night, alone in her bed and unable to sleep. And she realized that even just the pondering of him could ease her stress and worries. As much as she wanted to ignore what she was feeling, she couldn't. No one as kind-hearted or as interested in her as Rick had ever been so good at relieving her anxieties.

Before she knew it, Rick was yanking his boxers down forcibly and easing her lacy thong to the side with reckless rashness. She hadn't prepared herself and already he was lining himself with her warm, tightening entrance before she could process it all- so quickly that time blurred and she gasped. Her spine knocked against the wall as he pushed himself against her.

" Ooh, I need you... Tell me what you want, 'Chonne, " Rick groaned into her mouth, his teeth closing on her lip. She answered as quickly as she could.

" You. You. Now. " And with that, Rick slid inside her pussy effortlessly. Her mouth fell open and her body accepted him before she could even beg for it to. Rick hissed at how thoroughly wet she was for him, eyes fogging with the fumes of steamy arousal and temporarily blinding him. He squeezed them shut and slid deeper, gnawing at the inside of his cheek to hold himself back. Knowing that her body craved him as swiftly as she had set his loins on fire until he ached in literal ways that made him groan aloud from all the pain.

Desire blazed madly and he moaned, louder than before. With his insides ablaze, he started an unhurried rhythm, gripping her ass greedily and rolling his hips upward into hers. He rocked her up and down on his length, her tiny frame like putty in his hands and moved at his will with remarkable ease, and she was soft and docile in wait for his demanding touch. She felt as though she was floating. With each thrust, Rick sank further- deeper- until he all but disappeared inside her dewy petals and she was crying out in wonderment, egging him on with commands in her dark, fiery eyes. Roughly and slowly, just the way he knew Michonne liked it, he obeyed her.

And Rick had kept his word. He had helped her make her choice.

The apple tumbled from her grasp and hit the floor with a bounce and a thud. Her fingers itched, craving to be weaved into his curls so that she could hold him to her, yearning for his kiss. She chose her sweet Georgia peach and her even sweeter Georgia man and she wasn't going to let him go again any time soon. Her eyes rolled shut and their lips met hungrily and harshly, teeth clashing. Their clinging, viscid kisses and saccharine mouths made them both moan with delight. When he picked up his pace, Michonne let her head lull forward onto his shoulder and she lost herself in numbing, white-hot pleasure, kissing his skin hotly and whimpering his name under her breath.

And there was nowhere she would rather be.

She had found heaven in his arms and in his kiss- in the retreat that was the solace of his embrace- and she realized right then and there that she did not want to be without him, or without his touch, for as long as she had ever again...

* * *

 **A/N: did you make it all the way? you still here with me? if you are, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. not only for your patience but for reading it all and smiling and crying along with Rick and Michonne and me, too. if it's not too much trouble, I'd love to hear everyone's thoughts on this long awaited chapter. it's always so lovely to hear from you all! p.s some one shots and the talisman update will be coming along soon as well, so be on the lookout. Love, Nereida  
**


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